Last night when I got home from covering three basketball games, Abby was in the exact spot I left her, in her recliner under a camo fleece, both dogs in her lap, reading her Kindle. She then got up to go to bed and said, “I was a vegetable all night.”
“Which one?” I asked.
“An eggplant,” she replied without hesitation. I held her close and we laughed and laughed.
The following dreams occurred over the period of a few weeks, and seem oddly connected by threads of violence and unrest.
Dream: Many of my friends and I are attending a huge party at a plantation in my sister’s neighborhood in New Orleans.
Brenda, Anna and Lisa (the one I tried to date briefly) approach me to talk, and it is apparent that they have all been crying. They ask, “How is Abby?” and I am pleased to tell them that she is the guest of honor. As they walk away, I notice that Lisa is wearing super-tall stilettos, and that at the top of each heel is a horse hair pony tail, so it looks like little horses trotting when she walks.
David and I are preparing for the party when he wants to see my new Sig Sauer P238 (a gun I would love to own in real life). It is made of jade. I tell him not to shoot through the ceiling, which is suddenly in my room in junior high, but he does anyway. We then realize we are naked. As we search for underwear, a woman shows us a gun carved out of a mantle clock.
Back at the party, people begin to arrive. I spot Abby arriving and take her arm for our grand entrance.
Dream: I am in a rented garage, sorting various junk, like rusty screws. When a passerby discovered what I am doing, there is a rush to buy, sell and trade rusty screws. I give up on the scene and head for my car, only to discover all the doors and the hatch are open. Upon closer inspection, I see it is full of empty cardboard boxes. Fearing my cameras are missing, I search frantically and find them. The boxes are labeled, “to teach you a lesson.”
I grab a rifle and a pistol and go to a nearby apartment, where I find the headquarters of a rogue group who specializes in reminding people to lock their cars. I switch to infrared, but my display is blue, and it reveals that the apartment is full of blue laser beams.
I pull out my pistol and try to shoot the head guy, but I find there is no round in the chamber.
Dream: my newspaper moves to a small church two blocks from its present position. As we move the last of our stuff, a grocery store chain builds a massive brick wall around downtown using shipping containers.