Considering I don’t keep a dream journal and rarely remember my dreams after awaking, it’s odd that pieces of a dream from last night are still etched in my mind.
I don’t remember all of it, but some 16 hours after my alarm woke me from my slumber, I’m shocked I remember what I do…
The beginning of this choppy dream sequence involved walking out of Boston’s Symphony Hall with a friend, but it was no ordinary egress but a maze-like walk that took me underground from Symphony Hall to a massive parking garage, and ducking out of the way from passing cars.
Then, my friend disappeared and I was walking along a pedestrian overpass beside a railroad track which brought me into a derelict neighborhood, where I entered an indoor flea market that stretched for miles.
I don’t remember the vendors or their wares, but I do remember walking through an al fresco courtyard beside a dozen women sitting alone at different tables playing poker and drinking martinis. After passing them, I instinctively turned to look back and my foot skimmed a puddle which caused a fountain of water to jump up and down.
At this point, a group of three teenage boys appeared out of nowhere and one of them splashed a glass of gin in my face. There was no altercation, but these kids later followed me as I continued walking.
Within moments, I was standing among a throng of people in the middle of a street that abutted a city school. There were street performers. The kid who splashed me with the gin appeared, and so did a police officer who only had to look at the kid to know he was up to no good.
I don’t remember the rest. I have an idea what some of the people and places symbolize, and for sure some of the characters are representations of activities and conversations I was involved in yesterday. Still, what an odd dream!