MoodyTunes

I’ve posted recollections of dreams here before (last Halloween featured the strangest pair). Today I’ll share one from this weekend.

Before I start, I have to say that it’s interesting that I haven’t remembered many dreams lately. I went through a period of numerous strange, memorable dreams, but over the past few months they’ve been nonexistent or forgettable. I miss them, but then I think maybe my creative energies are better used now…that those crazy dreams were just outlets or pathways for a bored, ornery, mischievous part of my mind to express itself.

But I do miss them. I miss the sense of wonder when I wake up. “How the hell did I imagine that?”

I’ll call this one…

Grandpa, they’re burning the recliner. It’s not safe here. I’ll write more later.

I’m walking my dog in a distorted version of my current neighborhood. “Distorted” because every area of the dream neighborhood is like the darkest corners of the real one: No streetlights, or the lights are out; densely wooded pockets filled with creepy nighttime noises; curvy roads so you never have much of a chance to tell if someone is approaching or following.

My grandfather lives in this dream neighborhood. It’s one of those things I just know as the dream starts. And about a minute into the walk I realize that police and FBI search parties are looking for him. He’s missing, and they’re trying to find him because he’s a murder suspect. Again, just one of those things that makes perfect sense in dreamland.

My dog and I are bait. We’re supposed to walk around and try to lure my grandfather out of wherever he’s hiding. It’s become apparent that he knows the police have staked out his house…he and his dog haven’t returned. His dog is known across the neighborhood for being dangerous. I’m pretty sure his dog and my dog are on good terms.

I walk around the dream neighborhood and occasionally see SWAT team guys or other dark shapes moving in the woods, or I sense them just around the corner in front of me or behind me. It’s scary. I can’t tell if I’m worried that I’ll set up my grandfather and he’ll be mad, or if he’ll jump out of the woods and kill me, or what. So I walk home.

I guess it was cold in neighborhood dream land because when I get to my house there are people there building a fire in the fireplace (a dream fireplace…I don’t have one. I guess I wish I did). Three women are preparing big bowls of dog food and it smells great. I joke, “If my dog doesn’t want it, I’ll take it. What’s in that stuff?” They tell me it’s poisoned food for my grandfather’s dog and that they’re about to take it out to place around the neighborhood.

One lady stays behind as the other two go outside with the bowls. She pats the recliner in the living room and says, “Here, have a seat, you’ve had a rough night.” I start to sit down but notice a small flame between the arm of the chair and the seat cushion. Then another, over by the other arm. I pull up the cushion and there are small flames starting all over the reclining mechanism.

That’s when I wake up.

I’m open to suggestions…

…or you can tell everyone about your wacky dreams.

Have a good Monday, everyone. Whatever you do, don’t eat the dog food.