I had an awesome dream early this morning. I told it to my wife who started a web search on dream meanings. I shrugged and took the dogs for a walk.
Just before I left, she told me of her dream–but I forgot that one.
My dream was (as I have already stated) fracking awesome. It was horror based.
So, in the dream, my wife said, “There’s a well in old people’s town, that the doggies can swim in.”
I said, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
Wifey got upset. And went on and on and on about it, so I relented and took the doggies to the well. It’s after midnight. We find the well outside someone’s house. The wife is now happy. (Dream Logic at work.)
Wolfie hates water and won’t go near the well, but Trixie is fine. My wife takes Wolfie to the car. They both sit inside watching us.
I pick Trixie up with the harness on, and lower her into the water. Along the inside walls of the well are planks of wood at odd angles. I realize that these planks can be used for humans to climb out. That was smart.
Time passes. (Again Dream Logic.)
Trixie has had enough and wants out. I reach down but she is just out of reach. Using the leash, I pull her over to the planks. Her leash is attached to a harness, and I hoist her up to the first plank. Her feet find it. Golden Retrievers can be smart. Trixie goes into panic mode. I reach down and she is still JUST out of reach.
I hear the front door open. An old Japanese man yells at me (I live in Japan), and he starts smacking me in the head and back with a wooden bat. Hurts like fuck, but I block the pain in an effort to get my dog out of the well.
My vision goes red as his bat cracks my head, splits skin. He is slamming the back of my legs. Blood runs over the left side of my face.
I reach Trixie by pulling up the leash. She in my arms and I lift her out and gently put her on the ground. She bolts to the car.
I turn to the old man. Rage boiling, and I grab him around the throat with one hand, hoist him up and charge full-speed into the side the of house. Everything in his body breaks and I drop him to the ground.
Looking at the crumpled sack of meat, I deliver a swift kick. I turn to the car. It’s not there. WTF! I turn to the house. And enter.
It’s a mess of old newspapers and horded toilet paper. Old seats and a rickety table. Old man smell. I open draws and in the third drawer, fourth, fifth drawers, I find bundles of cash. Bundles and bundles of cash. I use two plastic bags, fill them up and head out.
I put the bags of cash down and hoist the old man over my shoulders and toss him inside the house. I rip up paper and spool out rolls and rolls of toilet paper and drop a match. The house goes up in flames.
Somehow, I get home with the two bags of cash and the wife is livid.
And I wake up.
First thought: Fuck.
Second thought: Cool.
Key points: Water, man, blood, death, money, fire.
Hmmm.