This morning was interesting.

    Gatherings happen quite often in dreams. It doesn’t matter if you’re a loner, you’ll encounter sit-downs or “Cocktail Party” atmospheres. Recently, the intimate club environment came through as a setting for another puzzling scenario.

We were gathered in a dining room, just off a sliding door outside, much like my own home except the kitchen was not attached. The inside walls were painted green, which reminded me of my Brother-in-Law’s last home. It was nighttime as we sat together, my general feeling is that my son and younger daughter were there with me – for some reason no one else materialized or formed out of the shadows. 

The reason I mention shadows is that whenever there are groups of people involved, they begin as shadows or gray silhouettes sometimes, not always fully realized until needed for the narrative.

I couldn’t feel the presence of anyone else in the room, whatever the conversation we had at the table escaped me due to the events that were about to take place. My youngest gets up deciding to step outside for some fresh air, the night was mild and the lights around the house made the general area around the property feel “safe” – I had gone into the kitchen through a doorway just as they (preferred pronoun) stepped outside. My son startled me and wanted me to go look for them. This was a new house with a different set of circumstances, and its own set of rules. I suddenly remember why we don’t leave the house at night and dash outside to look for Fern. The echoing squeal of a giant hog could be heard not more than 50 yards away, I call out several times for my child. 

A wooded area ran alongside the back of the property with a creek that was deep enough to dive into, the lights from the house only met the edge of the woods. I panicked running top speed along the back of the house along a trail where I found Fern frozen in fear, the hog was less than ten yards away and acting strangely. This beast was HUGE and appeared to be at the apex for what this animal could grow in the wild, It was white with beige spots (I have to stop for the comparison with my older daughter’s dog, MAYA – nicknamed “PIG” with the exact same coloring) and seemed to be in distress looking for something in the bushes. Out of the bushes one of its offspring came bouncing out, startling the stressed out hog causing it to barrel past us on the trail, nearly getting clipped by the almost 6ft tall beast as it disappeared along the trail back toward the house.

The smaller pig had other ideas. a near clone of its mother, and only the size of a normal pig charged at my child chasing them to the edge of the creek, I was helpless to stop its attack, I was hollering it unheard. Whatever mania had gotten into the pig caused it to attack Fern who fell back into the dark water, the pig jumped in on top, biting them on the hand. I ran back to the house top speed yelling for my son to “Get my gun! Go bring me my 9mm – NOW!” as I reached the table my son was still sitting at. His face looked at me in disbelief, then I realized – I had no gun in the dream world because I don’t own one in reality. No matter – I had to go back and save my child.

I raced back to the edge of the creek, angry that I could have jumped in the water and smashed the pig with a rock over it’s head, it was if the choice to find a weapon was planned for the scenario in order to serve a deeper meaning. I see my child and the pig floating in the water, diving in I realized that by biting off Fern’s hand, the swine had choked on it and died. My daughter was in shock – transformed back into a two year old. I carried her out of the water, hand wrapped in a cloth bleeding profusely – I ran her back into the house into the arms of my wife who had now materialized.  

We rewrapped the wound as best as possible, my daughter was now hysterical, crying as we ran up the driveway to the car for the trip to the emergency room… The dream must have been too much for me at this point and it faded out. The last thing I remember seeing wad my daughter as a two year old in a light pink dress, missing her hand.

    I entered the office where the elderly couple were busy at their desks that were butted up against one another to make a larger surface. Across the table was piles of checks, money, and paperwork. Wanting to help in some capacity, at first I didn’t even think they heard me come in, whatever bookkeeping they were doing was enough to keep both entirely engrossed. Standing there like a doofus, my eyes scanned over the money and checks, the cash had a different color, this wasn’t American money they were handling. Wordlessly they were working, the man pouring over the papers and the woman shuffling the count of cash from one hand to the other – she was keeping tally in her head. “Excuse me” I interrupted, they turned to look at me, puzzled as if I had suddenly materialized in their space. In the well-lit office I could see the look of consternation in both of their deeply-lined faces as if they were staring at a ghost.

Maybe I just popped into their reality?

“Do you need some help with your work?” was all I could say. An argument ensued between the two in their native Japanese (This isn’t the first time that Japan and it’s people figure into one of my dreams) but I could only get the gist that maybe the woman was blaming her husband for bringing them bad luck, causing the dead to appear for their souls. I became embarrassed by the rapid fire back and forth of accusations wanting to dematerialize right there on the spot. The husband pushed his pile of paper aside, the wife flung a stack of cash down, I thought they would begin fighting – as much comedy it would have been seeing the clearly Octogenarian’s battle out in Tai Chi or Kung-Fu, this felt too serious. Trying to step between the two was my big mistake, they turned their fury towards me – rushing me out of the room, in almost the same way that I waved the phantom out of my “bedroom” the night before. Awkwardly I receded from the office as they chased me out the door. 

Next thing I knew, it was like a door was closed, slammed hard in my face.
The dream ended , I woke up slowly and it was already after 6AM 
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Gabe Miranda lives a stones throw from uptown Charlotte, enjoys Star gazing and creating chaos on Twitter. Currently working on editing diary posts to self publish his first book.