Monday, September 14, 2009

Hostages on the homefront

I don't really remember the beginning of this dream I had last night, which I had while napping on the redeye from Vegas back home.  I was back in my childhood, and was riding around a forested suburban landscape (which looked nothing like where I grew up, actually) on a bicycle with a bunch of other people, none of whom left enough impression to be given specific faces.

We were riding around, and suddenly we were on a hillside, riding downhill back towards "home", and then there was a police car in the middle of the road blocking the way.  He stopped us and let us know we couldn't go on, there was a situation down the road.  He asked us where we were going, and I have him my aunt's address.  Aha, it wasn't my house, it was my aunt's house.  [Though I didn't grow up there and never rode bikes around there, I don't think.  And she actually lives near the top of the hill.]

Anyway, the policeman said that that was where the situation was happening, and suggested we all hop in the police car and drive down.  The bunch of us piled in, and I was last, and there wasn't enough room for me.  [This may have been a flashback to Labor Day weekend at the beach, when I tried to sit in the back seat with two other people, only to figure out I was just too big, so I had to switch with Nick and get in the front seat again.]

So I opened up the rear door and dove across the three people sitting there.  Someone closed the door, and we started driving.  Then I had a shotgun with me, somehow, and I knew that the "situation" going on at my aunt's house was a hostage situation.  The shotgun was laying across all the people right along side me.  I remember it smelling oily.

Then I twisted myself and was facing backwards, sitting on the lap of the person in the middle, who was a largish black gentleman who I didn't really recognize in the dream.  Interesting.

I remember wondering in the dream who had taken the hostages.  My last thought in the dream was that it might be my cousin Davy, though I have no idea why I would think that.  Then I woke up, sitting in my seat on the plane.

1 comment:

  1. I often have dreams set in my parent's neighborhood - most of my chase dreams happen there...