I had an odd nightmare last night. It was a bit all over the place, but that’s par for the course.
It felt like I was in my hometown, on a dead end street where a friend used to live. It was night, the only real light was from a street light but that seemed brighter than normal. I wasn’t in my friend’s yard but was in his next door neighbor’s drive way, right under the street light.
I was bending down with a rubber dustpan and a hand held garden rake/cultivator type deal and was trying to sweep up what looked like broken light bulbs. A useless endeavor considering the tools that I had.
The wind picked up and I heard the low moan of a fire truck off in the distance. I looked up the street and I saw a ghostly figure walking. It looked a bit like a human/adult male form of “Pig pen” from the Charlie Brown cartoons with dirt, leaves, stuff swirling around him. I went back to “sweeping”, and I looked up the road again and the figure was closer. It started to resemble Paul McCartney in a trench coat and hat with a tooth pick, looking a bit like Val Kilmer as ‘Doc Holiday’ from “Tombstone”. The figure, he/it, was still full of ghostly gray and white hues.
I looked back over my shoulder to where my friend’s house should have been. Now I haven’t been in that house since probably around 1983/84, but to my knowledge it’s still there. The house that was in it’s place was completely different. It was like a mash of up of Modern architecture blended with a bit of a Craftsman Bungalow. The front was rectangle with a dark brown wooden design, it had a built in alcove for the door. Minimal windows on the front, and the house was lined with a rich thicket of shrubs on each side of a stone walk way. At the top, above the wooden wall there were rectangle windows that lined the front right below the roof, and the roof sloped backwards.It had a big “tiny house” with a twist of California vibe to it.
Inside the windows, there were flickering flames and at that point the siren that was off in the distance was moaning louder. It didn’t seem like it was my house, but I knew it, and I panicked and just ran right through the thick wooden front door knocking it down. Flames littered the interior and that was the point that I woke up, not knowing the end. I didn’t want to know the end. I got out of bed and had to occupy my mind. I remembered it was trash day so I filled the bag under the kitchen counter with all that I could and took it and the trash can out to the curb where the crisp morning air helped wake me up even more. Some dreams you don’t want to revisit.