Dream - The thieves, the horse, and the battle

On Friday, May 28, 2010, around 9:30-10:30 AM, I dreamed I was at home, looking out the back window, by the kitchen table, with my mother. We were irritatedly talking about people getting in the backyard. It was probably late in the day, getting toward evening. We saw some kids going along the top of the fence, but then it seemed like it was the concrete fence across the alley, not the wooden fence we have. Then a woman was out there and took the kids, slowly, to the backyard of a house a little to the west and across the alley from us. She was talking to them, pleasantly it seemed. Then she got a call in the house, which someone there evidently transferred to her cellphone, and she was saying something like, "Is that the spammers again? I have to take this." As she got back to the house, talking and listening on her cellphone, she turned and looked back at me. I somewhat grimly waved at her, and she waved back.

It got dark. My mother was worried about someone getting in the yard. I went out and looked around a bit. Things were not exactly as in real life. I think the two male mulberry trees were still there, and there were a few things sitting around, on the porch and in the yard, that aren't there in real life. I located a pickaxe, but I think it was mostly the head, I think the wooden handle was mostly rotted away. I picked it up and may have carried it to some place on the porch. We also had a dog we don't have in real life, a medium-to-large size one, as well as at least one small one that may or may not have been similar to ones we have or have had.

I went back inside and told my mother that I didn't see anyone, and told her about the pickaxe, which could be used as a weapon by us. Things were taking on an increasingly chilled, ominous feeling, like something was going to happen. It seemed important that we leave a message about the pickaxe, and send a message about it to some other people, in case they needed to get one, and so they would know about it, and so there would be a record of it if something happened to us. My mother had put something on the refrigerator, held by a magnet, a kind of violet strip of old thin construction paper, with straight lines drawn on it dividing it into boxes. I was talking back and forth to my mother about the measurements, while she was trying to call someone and leave a message. I was talking about the approximate measurements of the head, how big it was, and was giving the thickness of the shaft, which seemed important. As I had measured it near the head, it was something like 2 3/4 inches, and I was writing it in some of the boxes, then I realized I had gotten it wrong and it was actually 3 3/4 inches, and I wrote it in another box. I needed to change the others somehow, I might have to do it later. Then I thought that it would be good to make a small drawing of the pickaxe head, so that there would be no question about how it looked. Then I saw that my mother had already done it, on another narrow scrap of the same paper, that was a little to the right of and partly over the paper I was writing on. The image was drawn vertically, and a little crudely, but was good enough. It was much bigger than I would have done, maybe half a foot or so long. I had been intending to draw a much smaller image.


Then the woman and the kids were back at the fence, near the gate. She was telling them to go inside the yard and get something. They went over the fence and started digging in the yard, and came up with some pale shallow plastic things, like things to put paint rollers in when you are trying to put more paint on them. One of them had a huge pile of scratch pads [small blank notepads, around 3 x 5 inches] from the radiator shop, with advertising on them. It wasn't what they were looking for, though, they were looking for something else.

I was getting mad, and told my mother that I was going to go out there and stop them. I was intending to scare them off and gather up the scratch pads and take them inside, but when I went out and started walking across the yard toward where they were, or had been, I suddenly saw a huge horse, light brown in color, striding purposefully toward me. It was probably around 8 or 10 feet high at the top of its head. I started backing away. The big dog, which had come out from its place of hiding on the porch, stopped and started to back up a bit, too. I turned and started going more rapidly back to the house, the horse was moving too fast. While its eyes looked a little uncertain, it seemed that it intended to head right for me.

I got inside and got the back door shut and I think locked, and went around the counter to the dining area, telling my mother what happened. I went back to check on the door, staying back by the end of the counter, and saw that the horse was bashing at the window in the door with its hoof, looking angry. It didn't seem that the window could stand up to it, and probably not even the door itself. I saw the window, which was longer now than in real life, bending sharply inward, taking its thin metal frame with it, and the window cracking in several places, with big horizontal splits going across it, like it was a plastic sandwich reinforced glass, like a car windshield, and not just regular glass.

I went away, back into the dining area, nervously talking about it with my mother. I went back then and checked, expecting to see that the horse had its hoof and leg through the glass, but instead saw that it was a man there, with his leg hanging through. He was wearing a black mask over his eyes and a black bandanna around his head, and was evidently a burglar. I went back in the dining area and nervously talked to my mother about maybe somehow trying to get the pickaxe. I couldn't remember where I had left it though, was it somewhere on the porch or out in the yard? Then I went back and found the man had gotten most of the way in; his arms and body were in now too, only his other leg was on the other side. He was holding a very small gun in his right hand. I went to him and started trying to twist his leg around. He was looking at me surprised, like he was thinking, don't you see have a gun? He kept trying to get the gun pointed properly at me and I kept twisting his leg and moving it around and up in the way. Then suddenly he had it in his other hand, with a clear shot at me. I stopped, there wasn't anything I could do to block it. I let go and backed up some, wondering if he was going to shoot me, then abruptly he had a another small gun in his other hand, too. He took my mother and me hostage, and took us along with him. He didn't seem really interested in what we had in the house, at least for now. He wanted us to do a job for him, to help him steal something, I guess to prove our loyalty, and in any case make us useful. We left and went out into the night with him. The area now seemed more like Fallon, Nevada than Arizona.

He sent us toward a supermarket. We were supposed to search in the trash cans out front for something that was left by an associate, something from the store. He stayed well away, in the darkness by another building, but it was pretty dark where we were too, not much light to look at the things with. We took out some things. Some of it looked a little interesting, like the paint roller-type shallow container I had seen in the back yard, but we didn't find anything like we were supposed to be looking for. It hadn't been described, only that something would be left there, but we didn't find anything useful or valuable, at least toward the top, where presumably it would be. Something had evidently gone wrong, or maybe he hadn't been able to get out here with it yet.

Suddenly, there was a commotion of some kind in the store. He had evidently been found out. We hurriedly left.

We were wandering around then, wondering what to do. It seemed like a good time to talk to someone in law enforcement, get them involved, but we were also afraid that the man, the crook, might be mad at us and try to hurt or kill us. We finally decided to try to find someone. I remembered seeing a man a bit earlier who I knew was a police detective. We went back to the general area where he had been and eventually found him. We told him about what had happened. He listened and was trying to devise a plan about what to do. He talked to someone on his cellphone about it, and we went to a place where I had earlier seen the horse parked on the street, in a parking place. The horse didn't look so big now, more like the size of a normal horse. I told the man that the horse might know something and be able to help us, though I wasn't sure about its reaction. It looked back at us with a little bit of a mad, irritated, uncertain look as we came toward it. Then it was thanking us profusely as the man untied its rein to free it, and it started talking about how they had mistreated it. It agreed after a pause to help us, seeming to be reluctant to get involved with the man again, and then resumed complaining about how it had been treated.


My mother and I went back to our house, which looked a lot different now, but found the man and his associates were already there, and in the process of stealing some things from it before they left. The man was inside and was handing stuff out to them. Besides the man there were two other people, a somewhat short middle-aged Oriental man and a very tall muscular man who appeared part black and part Asian, and wasn't wearing a shirt. They saw us, and the head man seemed to want to get us, perhaps kill us, but they got in an argument. The others, particularly the Oriental man, didn't want to do it, and the Oriental man wanted to let us go. He was yelling at the head man, and he had a weapon that was two heavy hooked-together dark sticks. The hooks were just heavy eyelet type things and weren't sharp, they were curved around so they were almost closed and had blunt ends. He was swinging it around his head, threatening to throw it at the head man, but the head man threw an odd thin metal black piece, very slightly bent, with a wider thing at the back end, like a small light gray pipe that went over it like a handle. It hit the Oriental man in the leg near the hip, going almost straight down, and went in deeply. He screamed, but kept on standing.

The fight continued, all three of them in it, generally separated quite a bit from each other, 10 or 20 or more feet at times, throwing things at each other and yelling. It may have been mostly the associates, widely separated, fighting the boss, but it seems the associates sometimes threw things at each other too. Sometimes a couple of them got close enough together to get into a struggle, and try to swing their sticks or whatever they were holding, trying to hit the other person's back or whatever else presented a good target, or trying to stab the other person, if the weapon was of that type, and sometimes one or the other of them would get tossed or flipped. Then they might get separated by a bit and sometimes one would even chase the other briefly, till the person chased got far enough away or the fight became more equal again.

After a bit either the Oriental man or the part Asian, part black man threw some of the sticks at me. I managed to avoid them and they landed at my feet. They were apparently intended to hit with the hook and cut into a person, though the hook was curved over and blunt. It seemed the proper way of throwing them was to swing them around your head and somehow quickly unhook the one that wasn't being held, to let it go flying at whatever was being aimed at. I got two of them sent at me, still hooked together. You could hook three together, I saw it done, and let loose two and still be holding one, though I'm not sure it was done in this case. I was trying to throw them back, and I think I did, throwing both, not trying to get one unhooked, but it was awkward and I don't think I hit my target.

At some point, I saw the horse coming back, a pleasant and hopeful look on its face, but as it got closer it became aware of what was happening, of the crooks being back and the fighting. Its eyes widened and stared at the scene, and its expression drifted downward into a surprised dismay. It leaned its body back, pushing at the pavement with its hooves, slowing itself to a halt and then backing up. It turned and left, looking back once or twice at us, a nervous grimace on its face.


Then the Oriental man was going off with the head man. They had some kind of carriage, like a horse might pull, but no horse this time. It was filled with stuff. They were going along beside and behind it, pushing and guiding it I guess. They had gotten pretty far away already, maybe a hundred feet. I had a couple more of the heavy dark hooked-together sticks, ones that had been thrown at me, and I took careful aim, thinking I could get them this time, and threw the sticks. They flew forward at them, scooting along the ground after a while, but still heading straight for them. It looked like I might get them. I think I even had a line attached so I could pull on it, to drag them back when they got hooked.

All of a sudden the sticks stopped and started coming back, going backward, and I saw that they had one or two more sticks hooked onto them. The tall, muscular, part Asian part black man was standing a few feet from me, laughing, and pulling on the line, dragging them back. He had thrown his own sticks at them, and hooked them. I was apprehensive about what was going to happen now, but he seemed friendly and genial, not wanting to harm me, and amused at the situation. He didn't want me to harm the others, either, or get in a fight with them. I had a feeling that I might be able to get him to help us later, maybe help us escape or even turn against the others and get them captured by the police, if I could convince him to do so. He seemed close to being able to do it, but I wasn't sure how close or if I could convince him. He didn't seem willing to let us go at the moment though, or maybe I was too intimidated to even try.

The others came back. Maybe he called and signaled to them, waved them back over, it seemed he might have but I'm not sure. We were captured again.


Then we were together somewhere else, and they were working with various things, bent over some, working at them, with some open boxes around with things in them. They were working in or near the boxes, separated from each other by probably six to eight feet, getting things ready for the next job. The head man was saying, talking about the next job, and what had happened this last time, "At least there were no witnesses."

I was standing a few feet from my mother, who was to the side and slightly behind me, and we were probably about eight feet in front of him, and I said, "But what about next time? What about the next time?" He stopped talking and lowered his eyes, looking thoughtful and subdued and a little chastened, but he continued working, bent over his box. I stopped talking too, suddenly feeling strange and vulnerable, thinking that perhaps I had said too much. We were, after all, witnesses.


More happened earlier, and some more happened in town after we first escaped, but I don't remember it.

Dream - After a final fight with some monsters, I fly away, dying, over the great water

On Saturday, September 11, 2010, around 6:30-9:30 PM, I had a dream in which my mother removed most of the furniture in the living room, and tried to throw a lot of things away. I was upset by it. At some point neighbors tried to get into the house.

Then, later, I floated in the air. I dived out over a cliff behind the house, and flew to the ground, several times. Somewhere beyond the cliff was a lake, but most of the area was just desert.

Inside the house, I met a guru, some kind of monk. He asked about the flying and I explained it to him, and how it got harder to stay up the longer I tried to do it. He had a constant smile, and nodded and said I was very advanced. I demonstrated flying some, pulling my legs up, one more than the other and then finally both, and hovered around in the air.

My family and others were at home. I wanted to demonstrate it to them, and went out back and ran and jumped off the cliff, while they were concernedly running after me. I flew off and went low and landed in the desert. It was night now. It was just getting toward night as I leaped off the cliff.

I went quickly forward then, going sideways from the area of the house, laying on my stomach, my hands, enlarged, digging deep into the desert floor like claws, rapidly pulling me forward. The furrows I made were glowing pale. Other things seemed to have a pale glow, too. My legs weren't doing much, but seemed muscular. I wondered to myself if I had done anything to them, injured them in some way.

Some strange creatures tried to get me, including something like a large owl, and something vaguely wolf-like. They all had a strange, pale glow about them. I managed to get away, though some of the things clung to me for a while, their jaws or bills hanging on, before I got loose. I managed to fly away a bit.

It was day now. A neighbor woman captured me, and tried to hurt me. She had a plastic baby, and tried to make it seem like I was trying to attack her, and trying to hurt the baby, to get me in trouble with the police, who she had apparently called or planned to call, or have someone overhearing her yell call. She put me in chains with a friend, who she had already captured I think, and tried to shove us out the window, but she and her friend were also with chains around them, part of our chains, and she couldn't get rid of us. We got away, wiggled out of the chains and out the window, which we were already half through.

She got me again, and tried to kill me, planting fly bot larva in a cut she made on me. I got the rod she cut me with and poked her in her arm, tearing a huge chunk out of the inside of her upper arm, and then poked her through the arm again. The end of the short rod had splayed metal, cutting a big hole, but making it hard to push through. She kept trying to push me over the low wall of the large balcony room. I was mostly on the floor, pushing up at her, and poked her hard in the lower stomach with the rod, but she kept at it. Most people would have stopped by now, backed away, but, surprisingly, she didn't act like she was much affected. I pushed harder, pushing the rod deeply in, hating to do it, afraid I was really hurting her, maybe even enough to kill her. Initially she kept fighting me, like what I had done still wasn't enough to matter. I didn't see how that could be, and how she managed to keep on going like that. It was really worrisome, and I hated to do any more, and was afraid that I might have to. She finally stopped and backed off, and went away behind some things, still talking and complaining. She was saying now that the rod went in really deep, with a little bit of awe, sounding like she might be considering calling a doctor, then she cried out that she peed her pants, and started raging against me. I could dimly see some other women, friends of hers, at the edges of the room, looking toward her, dismayed looks on their faces. They had been too intimidated to join in the fight, but I figured they might now come to her aid, and maybe get her medical attention.

I escaped, over the balcony, floating through the air to a lower doorway. It was getting late now, almost night. I disguised myself some, and met with some friends, out in the open, away from things. After some discussion, I decided to try to find out some information about the woman from her friends, what had happened to her I guess. I went over to a group of them, but they started to realize who we were. Someone called out that they had seen us before, "Isn't that..." We had to run away.

A man chased us, ran after us, a bad man, but we got away. We were inside a building now, I think, a very large one, perhaps the one from before, I'm not sure. We went toward the front. We met some nurses, and warned them about the man. It turned out they had met him before, and knew about him. We went to the nurses station, but the man was already there. He was their boss. We got into a fight with him. He was on a dark desk facing us with several strong bad guys pressed hard against his back, some turned to the front and others turned to the back. He was arrogant, sure of his victory. I threw something at him. It seemed to go right through him and at least partway through the men behind him, but with only a temporary effect. I fought with him and things were not looking good, and there was a bit of a struggle. The man behind him took out a pen to try to stab us with, but the boss bent the man's arm around toward the floor, to show us his power and that he didn't care for anyone. He or a man directed by him grabbed another man in the groin, from behind, the white-gloved cartoony hand coming around like some awful face with eyes.

I somehow managed to run away, the others too. We met a nurse and warned her. I went into a series of ghostly metal partitions, reaching almost to the ceiling, open at the bottom, like some strange bathroom stall dividers, except that they had some odd projections at the edges. They were evidently part of a filing system. They didn't quite reach the wall at the back, but almost, with not really enough room to squeeze through. I started going underneath them, trying to hide there.

The bad man came, and his arm stretched forward toward me, elongating tremendously, while he talked. I pulled on it, dragging it after me, then left it and ran, hoping he would be trapped there for a while. Getting away for now, I talked with some other people. The police had been called. I was in an area that was a big room where children played and ate, and were taught things, while their parents were elsewhere, eating or shopping. The room was still full of kids.

I talked to the people some more. The man wasn't around, they didn't know where he was, but the situation was not good. He had spying devices, apparently including cameras. He knew or could know where I was. I was with a roomful of kids now, it wouldn't be good to have him follow me here. I went over to the window, on the other side of the room, and went out it, and along the side of the building, clinging to it and things on it, using my power to float to help keep me there. We were on the first story, but the ground was a little lower than the floor, and fell away from it, with landscaping, including objects.

I got around to the front and went back in. Most of the people were gone now, it was almost deserted. I went back to the room the children were in and it was empty.

I went back to the front, and was walking along an area that seemed to be something like the radiator shop, the part with the test tanks, where they worked on the radiators, when suddenly the man tried to get in through a low window. He burst through it, the front half of him through and on the floor. He was triumphantly talking to me, but in an almost desperate sort of way, like he had achieved his victory with great effort and great cost. He had a large white cloth bag that he dumped open in front of me, hurling the contents my way as he did so.

Some strange animals came out, along with a dense assortment of bugs, that looked like tiny red crabs and pale shrimp, and maybe a few other things, along with a lot of thin red liquid. They landed on the floor a few feet in front of him, and several feet from me. I was holding a bunch of metal cables, that I had flailed at him earlier, back at the tall metal dividers. I started smashing at the bugs with them. The animals, small in size but fiercely growling, generally red with large pale eyes, slunk off. The man said that the bugs and animals had all been infected with a strange parasitic disease, that he wanted to infect us all with, something that he had to go all the way to Africa to get. He wanted to kill us all. A small Asian monk came in from my left and bent over to look at the bugs. I was smashing them with a cable, and warned him not to touch them, and told him he had to kill them. He backed off and then started hitting them with something.

As I smashed the bugs, some drops of red liquid got on me, and on him too. I hoped I was not going to get infected. I had to wash it off soon. I finally left, to let the monk carry on with it. The bad man was still there on the floor, halfway in the building. I wondered if he had already been infected, that he had gotten that way while collecting the animals and bugs. As I went back along the front part of the building, the direction the monk came from, the building was mainly empty, but I saw an occasional nurse. Large pillars were in place every little bit, and a reception desk was back by the wall, facing the general area of the entrance.

Suddenly other, larger animals tried to attack me. He must have secretly left them here earlier, to wait for me, before he broke through the window. Some of them actually bit me. Some of them had their strange pale eyes protruding and blending back into their red fur, like strange cooked egg whites, soft cooked.

I tried to warn a nurse to get away and warn people, but though she seemed to be struggling with an animal herself, she looked toward me and grinned evilly. She was working for him, I realized.

The animals were after me. I turned toward the front, heading for a window. I put my hand forward. It was hard to see, like things were getting enveloped in a pale fog. I found the window pane. It was thin plastic, and already had a broken place in the middle, where the plastic was split by something. I stuck my hand through it, pushing through. The broken area was only 5 to 8 inches. The animals were on all sides, barking and growling and snapping at me. My brain felt in a bit of a fog, too. I pushed at the plastic pane, crashed into it, forcing my body through it, splitting it open a lot more, squeezing through it.

I went out into the night, and soared out over the vast stone steps. The place seemed to be empty. There were a few cars out on the roads, away from the building, but not many. There was a vast sloping landscaped area, separated by white stucco walls, and parking lots, that still seemed to have a lot of cars in them. I went out high over everything, into the cool night, gradually getting lower as I went. I was heading toward the side of an overpass now, with water rushing under it, and crashing against the overpass with white foam. I was too low, I would hit the overpass, maybe even go into the water at its base. I remembered telling the guru monk earlier, about how I tended to get lower as I went, and him smiling at me, his constant smile, with a knowing look, and I inhaled deeply, seeming to become more buoyant as I did so, and that and with the will of my mind rose upward, and over the top of the overpass.

I soared out high over the landscape below, which became filled with channels of rushing, foaming water, separated by walls, a whole network of it. I was feeling bad, sick. I looked down sadly at it, and at the vast expanse of water beyond, that they ran roughly parallel to, though at various tilts along the way. I heard a voice in the air, from somewhere, high above and a little behind me, gently reminding me about depression. I wasn't sure who the voice was, but it seemed to be afraid that I would give up and throw myself into the rushing waters. I had intended to get to the UN and warn them, I think, but sadly thought that I might not be able to make it now.

I looked out at the last part of the rushing channels of water, and the great water beyond them, wondering where a safe place to land might be, and whether I would be forced to come down into the water, either the water channels or the great water beyond them, a lake or inlet of the ocean, because I wouldn't be able to go any further, or whether I would make it past them, to some place off to the side, to the right, and beyond.

Dream - The road with the big spiral downward, the mysterious building at the bottom and a magical time talking with my mother about what it might be, then at home I am attacked by a rag doll man

While sitting in a chair in the living room, listening to the radio, I fell asleep, probably starting either about a half hour before midnight, Thursday, March 3, 2011, or a half hour after midnight, and ending about 2:30 AM Friday, March 4, 2011. The records I made of it are unclear, giving the time as 12:30 PM-2:30 AM, where either the PM is incorrect or the time associated with it is. Both days and both dates were included, making it seem like it really did start before midnight, though I can't be sure.

The radio, on while I slept, occasionally waking up, was tuned to Coast to Coast AM. The show had a woman science writer from National Geographic on until midnight, talking about the mind, and then after midnight a man talking about Enochian magic.

While asleep, I had a very interesting dream.

I dreamed it was night, at least most of the time, and I was in Arizona, driving, heading for Nevada. Someone was talking about something, from off above somewhere and far away, though I could hear him clearly. It seemed to be about something important, particularly later, about how the world was put together and about magic and how to use it. I got almost to the border, near Hoover Dam, and started going around in the spiral, a much longer spiral than in real life. The road went around and around, getting lower at the same time. Surrounded by trees now, I went around and around in the darkness. The night was cool and the air felt a little moist. At the center of the spiral was a complex of pale buildings in among the trees, kind of a gateway to somewhere it seemed, that people stopped at before going on. It seemed a friendly place, even a fun place, but at the same time it had a mysterious aspect, that something else was going on there too, that it had another purpose, and that some other people were going to come soon that had something to do with that. My brother was there I think, and my mother, and I sometimes talked to them, particularly my mother.

I went back then, with my mother, partway back around the circles, and we were looking back among the trees and talking conspiratorially, about who might be there, and some about the others, where they might be and what they might be doing, and about the mysterious people who were going to come to the building. Then, somehow, I was driving away by myself, going out around the spirals. It's possible she went off into the trees, but I'm not sure now. As I got toward the outer edge the spirals were expanding out and flattening out, and it felt like I was freeing up into an expanding free space, with a sense of freeness, and it felt exhilarating and good, and I tried to recreate it a few times.

Then I was driving back toward home again, by myself. The voice above was still talking, saying things that were relevant to the situation, talking about the spirals and what they meant and other dimensions. It was getting lighter outside. I was trying to figure out where I had been, where it had been located. It seemed it had been somewhere around Hoover Dam, that was the only place I could figure it could be, though it didn't feel quite right, like it didn't really match what I would have expected there.

The land had quickly become more barren, as I got away from the Hoover Dam area, even going through some spirals still, beyond the important concentration of them. The barren ones weren't important, just more land. A few other cars were on the road now.

I got beyond that part, away from that area, and was going straight, across the barren land. The voice was talking again about the spirals and what they meant and other dimensions, and I started going around them again, wherever I was now I guess, but it seemed to be a re-creation of them, for conversation purposes. This time they went up instead of down, out of the straight road, and I saw an outside view of them, from above and the side and far away. Initially they seemed more like dusty spirals, I think, going up into the air, but as time went on that changed. I saw the car, tiny, not much more than a dot, going around a narrow ledge on the side of a flat-topped mountain of reddish rock, with sloping sides, and layers visible in the rock. I frowned, as I looked down at it. It seemed disturbing to have it represented like that.


Then I was home, in the living room, and people were trying to get in the front door, talking to each other, and the deadbolt lock turning. I think I may have tried to turn it back, maybe a few times, but I'm not sure, and if I did I soon abandoned the effort. Out back, the dogs were barking. I went into the bathroom and hid there with the door closed. I could hear them talking to each other, discussing what was there, trying to find something valuable, saying that they had missed the home owner, he was evidently out. It sounded like they wanted him to be home, to tell them where the valuables were.

Then they were gone, and I went to the kitchen, to feed the dogs I think. I was between the refrigerator and the counter, when I saw a man at the back door, outside. I could see him through the window in the door. He was talking to someone, while still mostly turned toward the window, someone to his left that seemed to be off a ways and who I couldn't see. He seemed to be unaware that I was there. It wasn't immediately obvious I suppose, since I wasn't directly before him, but around the corner of the counter. I wondered about him getting inside and then me having to fight him.

Then all of a sudden he was laying on his back on the counter, but it somehow didn't seem to be quite really him, kind of a representation of him, that he projected into the room. It wasn't even a full body, his head and shoulders and part of his body, but his shoulders and the part of his body that was there were much reduced, much narrower than a real body, and sometimes they seemed to be a rag doll with cloth sewed together, sometimes even his head seemed that way. I picked him up, what there was of him, and kept slamming him back on the counter, slamming his head into it, banging his head on the counter over and over, sometimes on the edge of the counter, while he talked to me, sometimes threatening or insolent, and sometimes talking about when his partner would come in, and then I would have trouble. Sometimes when I was banging his head it clearly seemed to be at least partly a rag doll, particularly from the chin and lower, sewed out of white cloth, his head flopping on the thin cloth neck as I banged it.

One time toward the end, I woke up briefly and raised my head up from where I had been, bent way over in the chair, my arms wrapped around me. I was not feeling good, and was somewhat scared because of the dream, and I could see red blotches, even some that were long, in front of my eyes. I wondered if they were real, or I was seeing the blood on the floor from where my ankle had bled months ago, but I could see a place further on that had the dark dried blood. I turned my head and the red blotches seemed to stay there, but I was also keeping my eyes fixed on the same area as I turned my head. I turned toward the light by the couch and the redness seemed to follow, but it was harder to see it in that direction, because of all the things that were there adding to the confusion. Later I looked back where I had been looking before, and most of the redness was gone.

Dream - The pickpocket

On Thursday, April 16, 2009, around 5:30-8:00 AM, I dreamed I was going back to a store, somewhere in the Phoenix area I guess, maybe toward Tempe. It was night, fairly late. I had been there not long ago, maybe hours or less, but had to go back. I guess I had gotten the wrong thing or missed getting something or had to talk to my mother about what I found, but whatever happened she wanted me to go back.

I was driving down a long, almost empty street, not going terribly fast. The street was fairly broad, but didn't have any markings, and seemed to be residential on one side, though a wall separated whatever was there from the street. The street was lit by occasional street lights. I think I was a little concerned about a police car possibly going by or even following me, as they sometimes seem to be looking for something to do late at night. It's possible one may have passed going the other way, but I'm not sure.

Far ahead, in a patch of darkness where a tree or bush hung out over the wall, there seemed to be something. I wondered if it was somebody on a bicycle. I slowly angled the car to move further away from the side. As I grew closer, I could see that it was someone on a bicycle. I don't think the person was aware of me until I was very close. I passed him or her at a wide distance.

I finally got to the store, which was a large low building on the left, with a cross street on the other side of it. I pulled off into a little lane that ran by the parking lot, with a low wall separating it from the parking lot, then turned right a short distance and then right again into the entrance to the parking lot. There were still cars there. There were a couple that I noticed in particular, near where I was going to park. They were parked facing toward the wall that ran by the little lane. One was some kind of Cadillac that had been modified to have a huge trunk that stuck way out, maybe ten feet or so. The car I was driving wasn't terribly large, maybe around the size of an Oldsmobile Delta 88, as they were in the late 1980s, or perhaps even a little smaller. However, it was growing smaller still, and as I swung it around to park near the entrance to the lot, actually holding onto the car and picking it up, the wheels ran over the long trunk of the Cadillac. I carelessly let it happen, being too tired to bother worrying about it I think, thinking that the car was too small to really hurt the Cadillac. Indeed, the wheels were now so small they could have been on a golf cart. I did start to worry now, though, that maybe it really did do something to the trunk, that maybe the metal was too weak and thin to withstand it. I went and looked closely at the trunk. It was a pale whitish green, with some variation in color. Though I feared there might be a slightly depressed track along it, and initially there seemed that there might be, I found that there was just a slight tread mark, a slightly dirty area where the tires had gone.

I put the car, which now had shrunk to just a small platform, on the edge of a broad raised area that was evidently part of a speed bump, near some other cars and almost behind one, and next to a small dumpster. The platform had two very long wooden poles attached, that I folded on hinges at their base, and put them along in front of the dumpster, where I thought they would be out of the way. I went inside the store, then.

It seemed to be a kind of hardware/home improvement store, at least the section of it that I was in. It may have had other things further on. There was a room in the front part, partly closed off from the rest of the store, that had particular things in it separated from the rest of the store by tall windows. It had big glass double doors on each end leading on into the rest of the store. On the end I went through, the one farthest from the road and closest to the entrance to the parking lot, the doors led through into a broad hallway that ran along the side of the building for a distance. On the right, doors opened into rooms where various things were being taught. Some kind of how-to type of instruction, I thought, though I think classes of a community service nature were also taught, I supposed. I wanted to get past this area, to where I could access the main part of the store. A few people were in the hallway. As I walked along, I could see some people in the rooms through partly open doors. Some of them looked back.

Then suddenly a short man, with a somewhat frantic look on his face, rushed up behind me and started rapidly patting my back pockets all over. I quickly drew away from him, feeling my back pockets myself, trying to see if my wallet was still there. The pockets seemed enormous, much wider than normal, and at first there didn't seem to be anything in them. I was quickly feeling along the outside, and there just seemed to be me underneath. Getting further back, though, I finally found the wallet, much smaller than normal, half-sized really, practically lost in the huge pocket. Already half-turned from him, I turned more and threw him back, away from me. He looked at me, his arms partly sticking out at the sides, standing with his legs apart and his knees bent a little, looking uncertain and kind of guilty, maybe about six to eight feet away from me. I turned and was walking away, when he rushed me again and was again frantically feeling my back pockets. I again threw him off me and again checked to be sure my wallet was still there, and started loudly calling out for guards, for security people to come, that the man was trying to rob me. Some people came and held him, and looked at me in a calm and reassuring way, saying that they would take care of him.

It turned out, though, that he had been in one of the classes, something about protecting yourself from theft, and he had been assigned by the teacher to go out and do to people what he had done to me, I guess to see how it was when real thieves did it. He didn't seem to be very good at the job, it seemed to me, as normally those people are much more careful, and don't want their victims to know they are being robbed.

I went into one of the classes then, in one of the little rooms, being directed there by the guards I think, and listened to the teacher talk about something for a while. I don't remember now what he was saying. He sat on the edge of a tall chair or stool, while the rest of us had smaller, normal size chairs. I think they were of light colored wood, like school chairs. I wanted to finish this up and go on to what I had been doing. I wasn't intending to stay for the whole thing, just enough to get through the particular thing he was talking about, and then leave.

Dream - Captured by miniature golf playing mobsters

On Thursday, September 11, 2008, very early, maybe as early as 2 AM, I had a dream in which I was captured by miniature golf playing mobsters.

In the dream it was night, and I was driving back and forth to the shopping center at Miller and Camelback Roads. A lot had already happened, but I don't remember it anymore.

Then I was driving back from the shopping center, toward my house, and someone was after me. There was a little fog, making things indistinct, hiding cars until they were only a few car lengths away. I went to the right and into and through a tall wall of foam, like some detergent-type foam, and tall bushes to a large open area associated with a mobster-type person's house, which was way back beyond it, like a house on an estate. I was worried about trying to hide there because it was so dangerous, but I was trying to elude the people who were after me. They may have in fact been associated with the mobster, but I'm not sure, it may have been something separate.

It was something like a landscaped decorated golf area. The ground was hard and was either paved or had very short grass. I went up a slight slope that was part of a slightly raised area that held a small decorative pool surrounded by a brick or concrete edge. I then laid down there by the edge and tried to be inconspicuous. The foam was fading away and the fog was thinning. It was still dark but there was a thin pale light, perhaps from a combination of moonlight and area lights.

The head mobster and other mobsters had come out and were playing miniature golf or some other game. They were slowly making their way from the house side in front of me toward the road side and then along between me and the road. I could see them and hear them talking and they somehow didn't seem to notice me. I was somewhat hopeful but it seemed unbelievable.

Then suddenly they were there behind me and he was casually talking to me, something on the order of "So, did you really think that you could hide here, that we couldn't see you?..."

I felt he could order my death at any time and it felt like guns were already pointed at me. It seemed that there might be some delay for some reason, that they might let me stay alive for a little while, under guard, but there seemed no way to escape.

Dream - Gangsters, and a red blotch in the air

On Sunday morning, March 29, 2009, I had a dream involving gangsters, and later a strange red blotch in the air.

The earlier part of the dream is forgotten, but at some point I incurred the wrath of gangsters. I was in the back lot behind a business, perhaps the radiator shop. Most of the lot was dirt, but I was on a concrete portion. One or two of the gangsters left, leaving one behind with a gun pointed at me.

I was told to get in my car, which was parked at an angle on the concrete, with the front pointed to the southwest, partly toward the alley. The car was an old Cadillac, I think. It was a little small for a Cadillac, and was probably built after they started downsizing them. It was not a car I ever owned in real life.

Before I got in, I had to put the driver's side front inner fender back on the car. I had removed it or loosened it earlier for theft protection. It was falling down now as I tried to get it secured, including some black plastic panels and pieces along part of the front.

I was somewhat bemused, but the gangster person was a little impatient. I think someone dangerous was on the way and he wanted me gone before he got here. He sent someone into the shop to get the keys, a shop employee, I think. A couple of them came back out, looking uncertain and a little scared, holding a bunch of keys on a ring. Someone was going to start the car, then, but looking through the keys found ones that looked like Chrysler ones. The person was going to try them anyway.

I was in the back seat of the car, having been told to get in, then suddenly I was holding the keys, startled. The other person was going swiftly out the passenger door, leaving the place by a different car I guess. I was still in back, but was going to drive in that position anyway. I reached forward and put the key in the ignition. It seemed to go in anyway, despite being apparently the wrong key. I seemed not to be myself now, and was someone younger and smaller instead.

I drove to a counter somewhere, somehow drifting to the driver's seat along the way. I seemed to be a different person, with a different history, though I felt much like myself. Still in the car, I talked to someone behind the counter, and then the car faded away and I was standing there, still talking to the person. The person warned in a mild way that when such things are done they don't forget, talking about the gangsters. I'm not sure what things the person was referring to, though I seemed to have an inkling in the dream.

I went through some large rooms, then, and came to a smaller one off to the side. The room was still of reasonable size, perhaps twelve by eight feet, but was small in comparison to the others. Some other people were in the room, also.

While in the room, at some point, I saw a red area in the air against the light gray of the walls, hanging in the air like a vision. It was perhaps a couple of feet or so wide and twelve or fifteen inches high, and was about five feet above the floor and a similar distance from me, and a little to my right. I worried at first that some problem had happened with my eyes, since it looked something like blood, though a little lighter, some type of crimson. An area thinned out in the middle of it and whirling and turning thin lines formed in various patterns, sometimes like something a toy Spirograph would make, other times more like a turning horizontal wire spring.

It was beautiful and enjoyable to watch, though at the same time I was listening to other people in the room talk, or trying to, which was very distracting. It was a slow conversation and my eyes kept going back to the patterns, looking mostly at them, but it was ending now, slowing down, tending to fade some into indistinctness. I couldn't seem to bring it back, though the red remained, though a little duller and smaller.

I was looking back and forth from the red area to the people. I found I was reluctantly paying more attention to them, and a feeling of greater reality was settling in. I had to leave soon. There was a doorway to my right that sunlight was pouring through, a doorway that led out into the day, and I started to turn toward it and woke up.

Dream - The mobster restaurant and the Cadillac

On Friday morning, May 22, 2009, I had a dream where I drove my 1970 Cadillac down an alley and eventually came to a mob restaurant, a place where there had been some trouble in the recent past.

In the earliest part of the dream that I can remember, I was with some other people. We were outside and one of them was giving a talk on something. There were maybe six people or so, including me. We were behind some business, maybe near the radiator shop, maybe slightly south of it. It seemed to be sometime during the day.

Then the leader wanted to show us something. I didn't really like the idea, but went with them anyway. I had the 1970 Cadillac, and apparently some of them went with me in it. The remaining ones, if any, either walked or took another car. We went south past several businesses, going along near the alley. We stopped some place that sometimes seemed to be still in Scottsdale, perhaps somewhere between McDowell Rd. and Oak St., though sometimes it seemed to be around University Dr. in Tempe.

The alley had changed to a broad sandy area. The sand was deep and rose slightly as it headed away from the alley area. At the other side, on the west, was a long block wall. Perhaps homes were on the other side, but I'm not sure. It was evening now.

We got out of the car and I went to get something out of the trunk, or perhaps put something in it, I'm not sure. This was just a temporary stop before continuing on, a break for refreshments. For some reason I took off my shoes. I then walked over toward the block wall. It had some trash cans in various places along it. There were two or three of them where we were, and some dark things were piled by them. The leader continued talking.

I walked in the deep sand by the trash cans, looking at things. Something had run out of something there, making dark, dirty green pools, like old thick antifreeze, and I walked in it before I realized it was there. I was just wearing socks, and quickly walked in the sand afterwards trying to clean some of it off. The sand soaked some of it up, but there was still quite a bit left, and I didn't want to put my shoes back on while my socks, especially one of them, had a big soaked area with whatever the chemical was, plus the sand caked on it.

We went away from the alley and toward the road that ran parallel to it, toward where a restaurant was. Between the restaurant and the broad sandy area was a concrete wall that began about where we were, and between it and the sandy area may have been a long trash bin, then between the concrete wall and the business was a long parking area that was partially paved with old thin sandy asphalt.

The restaurant was kind of a fast food place, with ice cream. It appeared to be owned by some short Italian people with mob connections. Toward the front, it had a fairly large area to eat inside. It had some hamburgers that looked good, but I didn't have much money with me and decided to just get a blocky rectangular ice cream bar, chocolate covered with a few colored sprinkles. I also asked for some water, and they gave me a big paper cup of it with a little bit of ice in it.

The eating place was divided for some reason, like for smoking and non-smoking, but I'm not sure that was the reason. The other area seemed more for people who ate more expensive dinners and/or for more favored patrons, and was fairly full. It seemed to occupy most of the restaurant, leaving a relatively small area along the side and some toward the cashier.

I walked about two thirds of the length of the restaurant, going away from the cashier and toward the road, and sat down at a table, facing away from the road, with the area for favored patrons to my left. I ate my ice cream bar and looked at the menu, back at the counter where the cashier was, and watched the people around me.

I wasn't sure if I should be this close to the other section, or even near it at all. I could see some of the people there looking at me. One or two of the people I was with were nearby, but the others went somewhere, out to the back I think, probably looking for a restroom. There was a bit of tenseness. I was told by someone about some kind of mob trouble that had happened recently. I worried some that we might be associated with it in the minds of the people there. We were strangers and seemed to be looked at by some of the people with suspicion.

I finally left, and as I was going out the door in the side, near where people ordered the food, I met one of the owners, a short skinny guy, who was coming in. He looked up at me solemnly and slightly irritated, though his expression became more neutral. I think someone told him that we didn't have anything to do with the earlier trouble.

I went out toward the broad sandy area. I was worried about leaving my car out there for so long. I hadn't intended for it to be this long, I thought it was just going to be a quick stop.

I discovered that someone had covered the car in a coating of an oily substance and then set it on fire. I was afraid it had been destroyed. It seemed it had burned off quickly, though. The outside of the car was kind of sooty and still a little oily. Evidently it had been done when they still thought we might be some kind of enemy, or have some kind of connections to one, or maybe they just didn't like it parked there. The police were there and a big flatbed tow truck, ready to take my car away, apparently to the junkyard. The interior seemed to be okay and it would probably still work alright, but I accepted that they were going to take it. I hoped that I could get it back later.

I went back north, on foot. It changed to daylight again as I went. I began to glide in the air in short bits, going from object to object, going along down the alley.

As I got close to Thomas Rd., I met up with the others. We crossed Thomas and went to an area a ways on the other side. There were rows of long pale buildings containing businesses and shops, with old broken concrete parking lots, with some areas dirt and some areas asphalt.

The leader took us to a small doctor's office in the middle of one of the buildings at the northern edge of the area, talking about how we should stop in quick and get some particular thing checked, that it was a good idea to have it done. He seemed to be using it as a teaching exercise, showing us that this particular test, or it might have even been a couple of them, was something that was important to be done, and something important to have done after exercising, as we had been doing walking around.

The waiting area was very small. A few people sat in it, waiting. At least one looked up at us. There was a short, slightly curved line of people that led to a door and through it. Apparently the doctor was somewhere on the other side. We got in the line. A few other people were ahead of us, but I didn't know how far the line extended on the other side. Presumably the tests were something that could be done quickly. This was just a brief stop and then the leader was going to continue on, showing us things.

He kept happily talking while we waited in line, but I became increasing disturbed. I hadn't intended to see a doctor. We had been out all this time, and I was kind of sweaty and had been wearing the same clothes for a while, and didn't really feel presentable. I finally asked if we were really going to see the doctor. The leader happily said that we were. I said that I didn't want to and started to leave. The leader looked disappointed, and said "Awwww" and tried to talk me out of it. One or two of the others also briefly tried to, but I left anyway.

I went back to an earlier row of the buildings and stopped in a little shop of some kind, run by an older woman, then went toward Scottsdale Rd. I started flying and gliding from object to object, heading south. Sometimes I got fairly high. Some of the people along the way looked at me funny. I got across Thomas Rd., sailing high above the pavement. It was late afternoon, and the light was somewhat dim. It was cloudy, sometimes raining.

I eventually made it to the edge of the neighborhood where I lived. I met my mother there. She had walked out there, to one of the neighborhood streets, and was near Scottsdale Rd. She was having some kind of trouble with her health, and the medication or the device she had been given had not been working right. She was having some kind of odd breathing problem, and was taking long, not very forceful breaths, almost constantly. Someone from a nearby business had noticed her problem and had helped her with it. I think maybe two or three people had come to help, maybe from more than one place. A doctor or ambulance had apparently been called, but nothing had shown up, and it had been going on for hours.

I took her back home, which seemed to be the place we normally lived, though the appearance was quite a bit different, and the house was quite a bit bigger in the north-south direction. I finally got the device or medication to work better, I figured it out somehow, though it was just temporary and her doctor still had to look at it, if for no other reason than to confirm that it was doing all it could.

Dream - Vanquishing the beast

On Monday, April 21, 2008, I dreamed I was at a place that was partly like a grade school I used to attend, with long rows of buildings, and partly like a mall. I was a Spider-Man-like character, but generally or always dressed in Peter Parker fashion with brown clothes and white shirt. I went up and down a corridor like the grade school had between buildings, but which had stores in the dream. It seemed also to be some kind of school. It was night.

I turned into a broad aisle going through the buildings, and around the middle of the school found some silvery metal horizontal fins set in a square high in a recessed corner. They disturbed me in some way, and I kept going back to look at them. Someone I knew came by, a man, and talked to me a bit, saying something about a meeting in the multipurpose room. I said something brief and quickly turned away, not wanting to talk and not really wanting to be seen. I quickly walked back over to the high square of fins and looked at it some more. I had thought that something was hidden behind it, but it just seemed to be composed of layers of fins.

I had a general sad feeling, then and earlier. I also had some feelings of worry about people, about doing something, and a need to be partly hidden, at least as far as powers and maybe my true nature went.

I went forward then through the aisle under the building, then turned back to a restaurant about halfway down the aisle. A man there remembered me from earlier, out in the countryside, far away where I fought a strange Nessie-like beast and killed it. He had the beast again and it wasn't dead.

A flashback showed that the original beast was killed by me, along with others like it (though the dream originally only featured the one beast), but he found a baby or juvenile one and took it and raised it to adulthood. It was now in the restaurant and was used as an attraction. People rode it, trying to outlast it or beat it in some way. Business was down for some reason.

He wanted me to ride it and try to beat it. He hoped it would attract customers and hopefully save his business. I rode it. It was like a killer whale on land, raised a little up from the ground. There was some doubt about the outcome.

The next day or night, the scene returned to the restaurant and a figure slowly rose straight up from the floor, like it was being created as it rose. It seemed at first to be the beast, but then it became apparent that it was just a suit made from its skin, with broad, light chocolate-colored collars and black otherwise. The figure wearing it seemed at first to be someone else, but was apparently supposed to be me, though I still seemed to be separate from the person, who seemed younger and smaller.

I went deeper again into the restaurant where people were sitting in groups at tables by a broad aisle running deep into the building. They seemed to be mostly mobsters. Another aisle ran to the right. It led eventually to a place deep in the building where people were gathered, watching something. It was some kind of magic figure and the people, some of them, were wizards from Discworld, little old men with long beards and pointed hats. One of them was talking to a much older one, who managed to answer after a pause, mainly just a nod of acknowledgement and agreement and perhaps a few words. It seemed somehow that my father and his father were among them and part of the wizards. The wizards didn't resemble them, but sometimes seemed to be a projection or overlay over them.


The dream had much more earlier in the mall/school, and before that out in the country where near the end of that portion I vanquished the beast. I vanquished the original beast just before or as we were leaving.

The country was somewhat hilly with broad depressed areas and some higher areas with lumpy red dirt walls with rounded holes where large stones had fallen out at some earlier time. It was desert with some vegetation, but seemed to have more moisture than a real desert. There were dirt roads and some kind of gate near the end of one, before a main but probably still dirt road. The gate was at the end of a dirt road that led up from a broad depressed area with another dirt road or two crossing it before getting to the gate. At the other side of the gate was the road that went past and led away. It was daytime.

Some other people were there. We may have been trying to lead them out or may have been at least partly trying to get away from them. If they were threatening, they didn't seem very threatening. I'm not sure what we were originally doing there, but a large part of the dream, perhaps most of it, took place there.

Dream - On the run

In the morning of April 2, 2008, I had a dream or combination of dreams. Though initially the dream was not too unusual, it changed and became increasingly strange, finally becoming a long story where I ended up running from the law and able to change reality.


In the earliest part of the dream that I can remember, I was driving the 1970 Cadillac, but there was also another car, perhaps dating from the sixties or seventies. There was something about checking or perhaps changing the oil or looking at the waterpump seal. The engine had a lot of space around it, and it was easy to see things.


Then I was back home, in bed. There were some crumbs on the blanket, partly on top, partly underneath. I think that my brother and mother showed up at separate times and then left. I got up, tired. I may have gotten up more than once.

I went toward the hall, then, thinking I was alone but evidently hearing something. The house was filled with a dense fog. I went cautiously forward. I could definitely hear someone then, faintly, at least two people.

Becoming acutely aware that I had just gotten out of bed and was not fully dressed, I fell to my knees, going back into almost a sitting position, doubled over somewhat. I was wearing just a shirt and underwear, what I had been sleeping in. I pulled my shirt down as much as I could, in that position covering my underwear and part of my legs.

A little girl came into the hallway, appearing out of the fog. She was not someone I knew in real life, though I seemed to know her in the dream. She happily talked to me, saying that someone (perhaps my mother, perhaps another person) had brought her, and she had been sent to me to help me. I was a bit uncertain about this, but I kept my reservations mostly to myself, and generally only made brief responses, mostly acknowledgements, to what she was saying.

Though she took no notice of my current situation, I still felt uncomfortable and decided to go back to bed and get back under the covers so I wouldn't be so exposed. I got up, trying to keep my shirt pulled down onto my legs, and somewhat nervously walked back to my bedroom. She followed along and we continued talking, though she was doing most of it.

When I reached my bed, I looked down at it, frowning. Though I had been about to get back under the covers, the crumbs were still there. It seemed unpleasant, now, to get back into bed with the crumbs there, and somewhat embarrassing to have someone see my bed this way. I started brushing the crumbs off the covers, but a lot of bugs were there now, also, and the more I brushed the more appeared. They were mostly pale, fragile, skinny-winged things, and most of them seemed to be dead or dying already, even before I started brushing at them. New ones kept flying in or even falling from above, and it was hard to get them adequately brushed off. Pieces seemed to stick to the covers and stay behind, too.


Later, perhaps in the same dream or perhaps in a different dream, I went outside, dressed in dark work clothes, to the backyard and then around to the side yard. A fence ran around the backyard, extending partway along the side yard. There was a gate in the side yard in the part of the fence facing the street, and then more fence ran along by the driveway. The fence was much higher than in real life, perhaps eight or ten feet. A chain was attached to the top, somewhere back along the fence, perhaps even back close to the backyard, and I used it to do something, though I'm not sure what now. I think I stretched it to the end of the fence that is toward the street but I'm not sure what the purpose was. It seemed important and/or useful at the time, though.

At some point it came to be that a rough wooden stairway went down from the top of the fence in front of the gate. I don't think it stretched all the way to the ground. Someone was with me and had been for some time, and I think they went down the stairs first, and then I went. It seems we were supposed to go inside now. Perhaps a meal was about to be served, but I'm not sure now.

I went toward the carport and got involved with doing things there. The carport kept expanding and lengthening, and turned into a garage, a business. There were several people there, and a sliding garage door that opened toward the house. There was some problem near the door, some loops of cable or something like that, that were on a square hook up high beside the door. For some reason the people needed to have them taken down so they could reach them, it was for some reason important.

At the far end of the garage near the street, some chain was attached to the wall. I went and got it and somehow stretched it out all the way across the garage to where the loops of cable were, pulled the chain tight, and then holding it more or less tight used the tension from it to walk up the wall and take the loops of cable off the hook. In real life this would not have worked, because the chain was to the left side of me, not in front of me, but in the dream it seemed that it should. As I got the loops down, someone started going through the garage door opening, as though I had to get the cable down before this could happen. The people were happy that it was taken down and someone was reaching for it even as it was coming down.


I was in a nearby house, then, perhaps the first house over toward the main street. I heard sirens that got louder and louder, and I saw, through some narrow window openings (curtains or perhaps cardboard were blocking most of the glass of the windows), an emergency vehicle go past. It went past my house and to the house on the other side, or perhaps the house on the other side of that. I wandered over to see the emergency vehicle, and went out back and to the front and back again. I started to feel that I was reliving to some extent a horror novel (a specific one), the mood was getting darker and somewhat scary and menacing. It seemed to be very late afternoon, almost twilight, sometimes after sundown, sometimes earlier. I started going around a big building toward the street, a little nervous.

Partway toward the street, I met a mostly black dog, medium size. The dog seemed friendly, but I felt it was there for a purpose, left there to guard that side of the building and perhaps a nearby side entrance. I went by or around it, but it wanted to follow me at a little distance, with its mouth open and its tongue hanging out. I didn't know how long it would follow me and I kept worrying that it would suddenly attack.

I went up the side of the building, pulling myself up on little pieces of metal sticking out, sometimes in the form of little skinny bars almost flat against the building, sometimes as just odd flat pieces of heavy metal. None were very big and none stuck out very far. Going up the building, working my way back some, following where the metal was, I got pretty high, perhaps ten or twelve feet up. The dog was still down there, looking up at me, happily waiting. I took a piece of metal off the building and dropped it on it. The metal fell on its back, close to the hips. The dog yelped but didn't leave. I felt a little bad about dropping the metal on it, and was now afraid that the dog was more likely to be mad at me and more likely to attack.

I came back down and went down the street a ways, keeping back in the front yards, trying to stay somewhat hidden. The dog seemed to stay behind, at least for now. I felt I was being searched for by somebody, though. I think some police or police detectives were also looking for me. It was dark now, and it had been dark when I was with the dog. The area I was in seemed to be small town/rural, no longer the suburban place where the dream started.


I came to a more open area and turned right into it. I seemed to observe someone, and thinking about his situation and storyline, then became him. The person wasn't too bright, at least at times. The street I was now on went downhill, sharply at times. There was some situation with a car and a tow truck. Then there was something hanging from a tree, a long chain or perhaps initially a swing. I took the chain and pulled it way back, and I was in the air over the tow truck and car then, going back, back, back, the chain seeming to play out from the tree an enormous distance. The road was dirt, somewhat sunken, with slanted, sometimes steeply slanted, shoulders. I was high in the air, perhaps twenty or thirty feet, going back up toward the more main street. Then I was going back toward the tree, going through the air, the road slanting downward in front of me. The chain kept playing out and I kept going forward more and still more, somehow staying above the now steeply downward-slanted road.

I crossed an intersection and eventually another, gradually getting closer to the ground while the ground kept falling away from me. I passed a restaurant on the other side of the road and seemed to be coming in for a landing a little ways past it on that side of the road, on a long pile of trash and large collapsed boxes. A woman saw that I was coming down and pulled a very large flattened box into position for me to land on. The box had a lot of oil or grease on it, but I managed to land past at least part of it, trying to keep to my hands and knees to get as little on me as possible.

Behind me, the chain falling across the intersection had caused some trouble, at least with the first intersection. The chain was or had been in the air, going across the intersection, and one or more cars hit it and had gone on to hit other things. The police were investigating and would eventually be tracing the chain to see where it went.

I left, following the street downhill in the dark, and after a while came to another intersection and more houses, houses that faced the intersecting street. The dog was back, and the house on the right side of the street had another dog. This second dog was smaller and paler, with somewhat longer hair, though I think initially it may have been almost a twin of the first. The second dog was in the front yard, inside a low white stucco wall that ran around the front yard of the house. I think it had just come from inside the carport, perhaps somehow also coming from inside the house. I was on the other side of the wall, on or near the street I had come in on, the street that ran between the houses.

I did something to the second dog, and changed it into a small stuffed toy and put it on top of the low white stucco wall. The first dog had left, moving on before I changed the second dog into a toy. I knew the toy would change back into a dog before very long, and it did so just before I left. It seemed that it might be an even smaller dog than before, and it seemed nervous and somewhat frightened and wasn't really interested in me.


I went back toward the downtown area, trying to avoid the tree holding the chain and the investigators, going in a bit of a zigzag, taking different streets. I think at some point I met someone and talked briefly, and they may have given some advice. In the downtown area, I went past an intersection and saw someone, a man in late middle age, looking at me through the windows of a very small corner store, windows that were mostly blocked by cardboard, leaving just a long slit or two open on each side.

Looking in through the slit as I passed, I saw him looking back readying a bow and arrow. The arrows were primitive, homemade like the bow, and had no heads, just roughly broken-off ends. I had been warned about him and others, though perhaps only in a general way. I quickly hurried across the intersection at an angle, going away from him. He fired at me, though, and I could see the arrow, with its splintered end, coming for me in slow motion. I batted it away with my hand, perhaps even turning it back toward him, though if so, it didn't do any damage, perhaps not even reaching him. I continued to move quickly away from him. He fired again at me. I was a considerably greater distance now, but it still reached me. I batted it aside again.


I came to a room. It faced the street, a side street to the one I had been on and going the same direction as the one with the tree, now far behind me. I had continued to go forward in a zigzag, and the room was on a far corner, with the cross street intersecting another street. I think someone was urging me to go in, to hide for a while.

There was someone already in the room, an older man. I went into the room anyway, through a door that led to a room beside his. I think someone may have come in with me, someone who had joined me somewhere along the way, but I'm not sure. Some other, much younger people were there in other rooms, sometimes coming in or talking from where they were. There didn't seem to be a real hallway, just rooms opening to other rooms. The old man seemed to stay mostly in bed, though he was at least partially sitting up or leaning on his side at times. He showed me and the others various things he had made, some no doubt from long ago, that his room was full of.

Through the window, I could see people outside looking for me and questioning people on the street. I think some of the people looking for me were police detectives and policemen, though I think some of the people were criminals, organized crime figures.

The old man took a very small device and showed it to me. It seemed to be a small piece of metal bent into a V shape with one of the sides longer and curved inward and a long skinny bolt going through the two sides away from the fold, toward the outer edges, tightened just enough to hold them in the elongated V shape. Inside the V, there seemed to be some more stuff, including perhaps some wires. The whole thing, including the bolt, was pale metal. It was intended to be held with the hand almost in a fist and the V part between the fingers, with the thumb inside partly holding on to it, partly pushing the trigger. The trigger seems to have been partly the end of the bolt and partly intention.

Although I described it as the two wide halves of the V being held together by the bolt, it now seems that the bolt somehow also went through the point of the V and down its axis, and that the V was actually a piece of metal bent to form a narrow triangle, with the V formed by the ends closing against each other. One side was still curved inward. The side facing out had a narrow flat area formed by two bends, with a tiny pinhole in it and an open slot below it where the flat area disappeared, leaving just the edges of the sides, and the end of the bolt, I don't know which end, sticking out.

The man demonstrated its use against the window, holding the device and pressing it close to or against the window. He moved it slowly down the window, cutting a narrow line. The window was thick, and had shapes or designs molded into part of it. I felt that it might have been something he had made, and I felt kind of bad about it being damaged. I felt too, though, that he probably didn't have much longer to live and knew it, and that he was no longer overly concerned about preserving physical things, having felt that they had largely already served their purpose.

He had me try it myself then, cutting more into the glass of the window (which may have been plastic instead), making a line from top to bottom so that a section of the window could be removed. It was intended that I should leave through the opening. It would be a narrow opening and awkward to get through, but I felt I could somehow do it. I would also be taking someone with me. Although I seemed to have come in with someone, one of the young people there, a girl, would be going with me. It was her decision, but there was at least some discussion about it. She may have also been the one that came in with me, but there's some doubt about that.

Looking outside through the opening, I could see the people across the street trying to find me. Perhaps a couple of them were questioning people. Associated policemen were also scattered around the area. It would be difficult or impossible to escape through the narrow opening without being seen. I pointed the device at them and fired it. It was difficult to do real damage at that distance, although if I kept it trained on one spot it might eventually start going through. A very faint mist was at times visible from the beam, though not usually in the beam itself, just mostly around the impact area.

The person I was aiming at, a man who had been questioning people and seemed to be a leader, turned partly toward me, his mouth open, his eyes mostly closed, a look of discomfort and annoyance on his face. His head was partly forward and his body was getting progressively wetter as it was hit from the beam. He was pushed back some and I think he might have eventually fallen. I might have also pointed the beam at another person, before the first one fell, if he did. Meanwhile the old man warned me, in an almost conversational style, as I first started to turn the beam on the men, "You know, if you do stuff like that, you'll have to keep on doing it."

When it seemed that I had created enough trouble, I went through the opening in the window and the girl followed. She seemed to be in her thirties, perhaps late thirties, though she had seemed a little younger earlier. She later seemed to resemble a little the full-figured woman on the latest Big Brother (Big Brother 9, with people divided into couples). She was blonde and smiled a lot, with big dimples on her face. Sometimes, though, she had a more subdued appearance, perhaps even approaching that of Adrian Monk's assistant, Natalie, from the TV show Monk.


We went back toward the direction I had come from. We had to keep looking out for the police and the detectives and whoever else might be after us. I was in a more open area now, away from the downtown. I went ahead cautiously, slowly going around corners, staying mostly at or toward the backs of buildings. The ground was sloping away now, sometimes leaving open areas at the backs of buildings, where the building was supported on boards, stilt-like. I came around to one area where some people were underneath the building. I was scared for a few seconds, but then realized that they were just bums. I stayed with them for a few minutes, then continued on. Oddly, they seemed to be at least partly aware of my situation.

I came to the back of a building, then, an open back, that had a bunch of policemen and detectives there waiting for me. They seemed triumphant that I had fallen into their trap. The girl who had come with me remained nearby, lagging a bit behind me, perhaps ten or fifteen feet away and to the side. I pointed the device at what appeared to be the main person and fired it. It was almost like pointing a ring, like Green Lantern, the DC Comics superhero, except that I had to push inside with my thumb, though it may have still been mostly intention that did it. The man's body moved back a little with the impact, his arms going out to the side some, his mouth open and his face in an expression of pained and somewhat angry dismay. His body became very soaked with the mist, though don't remember any hole appearing in his clothes from the beam.

Another man came forward, perhaps to protect the first. He wore pale clothing. He turned his back to me as he came, and I fired into his back. His back arched and his head came back, partly turned, and his mouth opened crying out in pain. His clothes became completely soaked and a tiny hole appeared in the cloth. I think he finally fell over, either before or after I moved on to someone else. They seemed to be mostly frozen watching what was happening to the others, until I turned the beam on them. I didn't spend as much time with the later ones.

I tried to leave, going away down the dirt road that was a little ways behind the building, but there were two other people there, a man and a woman, seemingly waiting for me in case I escaped the others. They came from the direction I had been going away from. I fired at the man for a while. He either finally fell or was incompacitated enough that I could get away from him. I fired at the woman, then, but she kept on slowly coming toward me. She was in late middle age, an expression of sadness and pain on her face, tears in her eyes, looking at me accusingly. She got closer and closer, her dress, somewhat lowcut and medium dark, completely soaked, until finally I was firing the device directly against the bare skin of her upper chest. As she came she spoke to me, about what I was doing to her, and the thought came through, whether directly spoken or just implied, that I shouidn't be doing this to her, it was wrong, and maybe someday I would realize that.

I wondered if she was actually involved in going after me. Perhaps she, along with the man, had only a slight involvement, or perhaps even none at all, and that I was essentially firing now on what might be innocent bystanders, though it didn't seem somehow as important as perhaps it should be, as by now I had to fire simply because they were there. I finally stopped firing, though, and turned away, and took the woman who had come with me, and flew away to another place. I don't know the fate of the woman I shot, whether she recovered or not. I don't know what happened to any of them.


We ended up on what was apparently a ship for a while. It seems that we had both at some point had gotten shot, though I'm not sure now which one I first realized had gotten shot. We were in a lounge area, on big roomy stuffed leather chairs with arms and sides. We were naked but had magically sunken in and blended with the chairs, even taking on their coloring, with mostly just our heads and shoulders and arms and legs sticking out, with just suggestions of other things, so it was hard to see much of our bodies. A suggestion of her chest showed, but her hip region was hidden, as was mine. I had a different body than I do normally, young and muscular, though my body was almost completely hidden. We were leaning back and smiling and talking, not seeming too terribly disturbed by our wounds. Some of the nearby people frowned at us, both because we were wanted criminals and because we were sitting there openly naked. Frowning at us because we were basically flaunting our wickedness.

That night we went out on deck, dressed now, looking for someplace to hide for the night. We were somewhat quieter and more thoughtful now, and our wounds bothered us more, though we didn't talk about them. She found someplace on top of something, perhaps a rowboat, and slid down into something laying on top of it that fit her like a sheath, leaving just her head and shoulders sticking out. I was worried about her and asked if she was alright. She assured me that she was. I was afraid, though I didn't say anything, that I would find her there dead in the morning. There seemed to be nothing more I could do though, and, still worried, I left her to find someplace for myself.

In the morning I went looking for her and calling out for her, but I didn't get a response. I finally found the place I left her, and there she was, her head and shoulders sticking out as before. She lay there still, and I think her eyes may have even been open, staring upward. I thought she was indeed dead, as I had feared, but then she turned her head slightly and smiled and looked at me.


Another time, probably before we got on the ship, perhaps after we left it, we were running from the law and came to the end of a building, toward the back. I paused, and saw in my mind that a large number of people were back there, waiting for us, ready to gun us down. I saw also a future in which I had not paused and they succeeded. I did not see them as people but as vague blobs and swirls of yellowish energy. I changed the furure then, and the present, and created a situation in which they were not there. I then cautiously looked around the corner, confirmed that it was empty, and then led the woman through and past the area.

Another time, perhaps before or perhaps after the other one, I got somehow careless or perhaps thought it didn't matter enough, and went into a similar situation where men waited for us behind a building. There were much fewer men this time, and even though I was looking right at them instead of sensing them, some of them still appeared as energy forms. We were fired at and I guess I fired back, but I think at least one of us was wounded then. Perhaps we both were.


Later, after we had left the boat, we were in some region of the Southwest. I believe we still had our wounds, but they seemed unimportant now. I think we had stolen a car to get where we were. We were in the desert near a freeway, not far from access ramps. The place was a complex containing one or more large service stations and one or more restaurants. We were aware that the police were still tracking us, and would eventually get to where we were. It was night. We were walking, and passed a couple of cars that were parallel parked, with the first one, a convertible, having the whole back section full of food.

I reached out and grabbed one or two of the items, probably individually packaged turnovers, and was just going to take them. The woman who was with me turned around and was saying "No," though, and took out some very crisp bills and gave one of them to a man who was with the car. I don't know where she got the money or what denomination it was. I was somewhat surprised to see that she had any. A couple of other people associated with the car were nearby. I think they were people on a vacation, perhaps retirees.

We went looking for another car at some point, wanting to confuse the pursuit. There were a lot of cars getting gas, so there were a lot of possibilities.

I also wanted to get rid of the device. I felt I had had it long enough and that we would continue to have trouble as long as we had it. I was getting tired of all the running and trying to evade the law. I recognized that the magic would go with it and that I would be losing a lot of power, but I still felt that it had to be done.

There followed a lot of confusion and activity, a lot of which I've forgotten. I remember driving around the parking lot, looking for a distant exit to the street, though I think I went back toward the pumps after finding it. This may have been before I took the food, perhaps even at a different complex at a different offramp. I also remember trying to get away from people who were after us.

In any event, I did locate a woman at a pump and gave her the device. I went with the woman who had been with me to steal a nearby car, then. A bit of confusion followed, though I think I did succeed in stealing a car. Some people were after us though, and I think were even after the woman that I gave the device to. The woman I gave the device to didn't really understand what was happening, and she didn't understand the device very well, though I tried to explain it some to her. She seemed to like the device though, staring at it and looking it over.

At some point, with people running around and trying to get me and probably her too, she pointed the device at some low mountains, including a section of Monument Valley-type mountains, that lay beyond the freeway. The mountains were being used as an earthen dam to hold back water, and water started to come through the rock now, coming diectly out of the rock as well as over it. A huge wave, very tall but more as a burst then having a continuous structure, came forward and over us. More water came, and kept coming. Water was even coming out of the rock high in the mountains, well above the level of any water held by the dam, coming out of rocks that should have been dry.

I realized somewhere in there that I still had the magic, even without the device. I looked out at what was happening from near the edge of the pavement of the service station area, the woman who had come with me standing by me. The water was lessening, now, and I began to think that it was getting time to go down the freeway and leave, with the woman who had come with me. I'm not sure now if we would be walking or taking the car I stole, but I was confident about the future.