I was due to board a large jetliner, possibly a 747. I didn't know where I was going, just that I was due to be onboard. I entered the plane from the back and made my way along the fuselage noting that my seat, in row 36, was some way to go. I passed through the plane (and other passengers preparing themselves for the journey ahead) and the numbers of each seat decreased the further forward I ventured. No sign of row 36 until I noticed that the number sequence reversed itself and there was seat 36, it's back up against the wall of the fuselage. I took my seat, which faced the opposite side of the plane. Then, for some reason, I was not on the plane, but looking for it. I found it moving slowly along a suburban south London street with Victorian terraced houses on either side of the road, the wings of the plane barely missing the frontages of the houses. The big question was how to get back on board, but there were no answers to that question. I met some shadowy figures as I tried to figure out what to do, but the plane disappeared and that was the end of the dream.
We ride our trusty bicycles most weekends. This blog charts our adventures and records our thoughts as we ride through the rural lanes of Surrey and Northern Kent – and there's some world travel thrown in too
Showing posts with label Another strange but vivid dream. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Another strange but vivid dream. Show all posts
Saturday, 2 December 2023
Saturday, 26 January 2019
Another strange, but vivid, dream...
I remarked the other day that whenever I dream about the family or something to do with where I live, I never dream of the house I'm currently living in; it's always my old house in Milton Avenue, Sutton. Until last night.
Last night I had a very strange dream. It involved lying in bed and awaking to find a man trying to exit the house – my current house – through my front bedroom window (the room is double aspect, we don't have a 'back bedroom'). The man in question was a murderer and was trying to push the body out of the window too. The odd part of the dream was that it kept recurring. I think he did the same thing a handful of times until I woke up and reassured those around me that all was fine, he'd gone. But he hadn't gone. He was coming back in through the front door and making his way upstairs, and this time he was not alone. I heard myself making it clear to the man and his cohorts that I meant him no harm – an odd thing to say considering he had invaded my house – but the next thing I knew we were all in my bedroom standing in front of the window and chatting about this and that; there was about six individuals, one of whom was wearing a boiler suit with the name of the company he worked for printed on the back.
When that part of the dream simple ran out of power and stopped, it transpired that whatever the men were up to had something to do with the whole road. The dream resumed further down the road in, I think, number 21, which now seemed to be where I lived. There were a lot of people from the road saying things, covering things up, it was hard to comprehend, but then I woke up and heard a loud thud downstairs. On awaking I remembered the dream and started to think it might all happen for real, but after searching around downstairs and finding no sign of an intruder I went back to bed, but left the bathroom light on. I didn't sleep too well. In fact I was still awake at 0506hrs and must have eventually nodded off, only to be awakened by the song of birdsong, it was 0600hrs and my iphone's alarm was tweeting at me. Time for a ride on the bike.
Last night I had a very strange dream. It involved lying in bed and awaking to find a man trying to exit the house – my current house – through my front bedroom window (the room is double aspect, we don't have a 'back bedroom'). The man in question was a murderer and was trying to push the body out of the window too. The odd part of the dream was that it kept recurring. I think he did the same thing a handful of times until I woke up and reassured those around me that all was fine, he'd gone. But he hadn't gone. He was coming back in through the front door and making his way upstairs, and this time he was not alone. I heard myself making it clear to the man and his cohorts that I meant him no harm – an odd thing to say considering he had invaded my house – but the next thing I knew we were all in my bedroom standing in front of the window and chatting about this and that; there was about six individuals, one of whom was wearing a boiler suit with the name of the company he worked for printed on the back.
When that part of the dream simple ran out of power and stopped, it transpired that whatever the men were up to had something to do with the whole road. The dream resumed further down the road in, I think, number 21, which now seemed to be where I lived. There were a lot of people from the road saying things, covering things up, it was hard to comprehend, but then I woke up and heard a loud thud downstairs. On awaking I remembered the dream and started to think it might all happen for real, but after searching around downstairs and finding no sign of an intruder I went back to bed, but left the bathroom light on. I didn't sleep too well. In fact I was still awake at 0506hrs and must have eventually nodded off, only to be awakened by the song of birdsong, it was 0600hrs and my iphone's alarm was tweeting at me. Time for a ride on the bike.
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