Okay. .......... so I am at my sister in-law's home at a location that is flat as far as the eye can see. Off in the distance barely discernible, are a couple of big trees and a silo cozied up next to a barn. All I can make out are their silhouettes against a blackening sky in turmoil.
Still watching the scene unfolding in the distance, I try to think of a reason why I am at Nancy and Bunk's house and why their house is now located on what looks like the plains of Kansas or eastern Colorado and not in northeast Maryland near the Susquehanna River.
I can feel I am close to understanding when flashes of lightening refocus my concentration. Where the trees, silo and barn had been was now occupied by a huge tornado reaching from ground to sky. It was moving in my direction.
I am seated in a luxury car. Might be a Mercedes, but I am not sure. Leather seats and a polished wood dash may be why I think that. In the rear view mirror, the tornado is fading into the horizon. I once again relax and try to understand what the Hell is going on. I look around the car. On the passenger seat is a "Baltimore Gas & Electric" power bill addressed to my sister in law.
Okay, I figure I have probably stolen their car. But where are they? Try as I might, I can't figure it out or I chose not to.
Scene Jump, again
I get out of the stolen car and walk across a huge parking lot and enter a large box store of some kind. I must work there, as I immediately begin unboxing and assembling some sale items to be part of a huge display at the front of the store. All the while I am doing this I am still trying to understand the what's and the why's of what I have been doing.
I pause a moment to ponder the items I have just assembled. They look like 3 wheeled golf bag carts without the golf bags. That each one is noticeably different from the others imply specific duties for each one. They look really odd. Orange plastic wheels and body supported by tubular aluminum rails and handles. I have no clue what their purpose is, but I know they are not golf bag carts.
At this point, police enter the store. They begin walking toward me. I turn and flee to the back of the store, exiting out to a loading dock area .................... That's all I can recollect now.
I am not sure why people chasing me are a consistent part of my dreams. The chasers are sometimes cops, but most of the time, just thugs chasing me because that is the part they play. I very rarely if ever have remembered the reasons of anything that plays out in my slumbering moments.
I long ago decided that knowing the why of a dream was not so important as enjoying the dream moment as it was happening. Remembering even a smidgen of the dream is then icing on the cake.
Keep it 'tween the ditches ....................................
What bothered me the most about that dream was the presence of a Mercedes Benz. This is the second dream I have written about in the last couple of years that has included a Mercedes. ...... Hmm.
So here is Janis Joplin and her classic, "Mercedes Benz". She was a force cut down long before her time.
RIP girl, RIP.