DISTURBING DREAM

I had the strangest dream this morning; I had woke up around 4:35 AM, but because I would be with friends around noon, I forced myself to try to get some more zzzz’s in before actually getting up and getting on with the day.

Between 4:35 AM and 6:35 AM, I did actually manage to catch some shut-eye. But a disturbing dream is what woke me up at 6:35.

I remember jerking awake and thinking, “What the heck?!”

And then, immediately reviewing the events to see if there was a message in there somewhere.

Bob was in my dream. We were in a truck – I didn’t recognize the truck; it wasn’t one we had ever owned: but in my dream, it was definitely ours. And the truck bed was loaded with our things. I don’t know where we were headed, but wherever it was … we never got there.

Instead, in my dream, we got sidetracked by some someone who needed help: so Bob parked off the side of a driveway up the road a bit; and walked back to help that person. He acted like he knew him: but that was just Bob’s character – he never met anyone he didn’t immediately befriend. I watched him walk down the road and stand there talking to the other fella. Then, my attention was riveted to my immediate surroundings: a man was on the porch of a house raised off the ground about 6 feet. He was talking to someone out of sight; he didn’t look happy. Pretty soon, a frustrated woman wearing a white tee and jeans met him on the porch and they went into the house together.

When the house door closed, our truck jumped gears somehow, and started rolling backwards – not fast, just moving backwards. I was on the passenger side, and though it was a bench seat … I couldn’t slide over to the driver’s side because there was a pile of stuff heaped in the center of the seat. I glanced out the back window, and tried to get Bob’s attention, thinking, “Bob! Turn around and see what is happening!” At that point, the truck had totally left one side of the road, and slid sideways on the loose gravel; and the tires caught the raised gravel lip. But because there really was no actual shoulder on that edge of the road, the truck left the road and started rolling speedily backwards down an incline: the incline was not steep, but it was angled enough that the truck was moving at a pretty good clip backwards. As it was moving, I lost all sight of Bob, the road, and civilization. The truck, careening backwards and picking up speed, was snapping off tree limbs as it moved further and further away from where it had been parked. I shouted, “Bob! Bob!” – but that was only to comfort myself, because there was no real way that Bob would have heard me … the truck had traveled too far away. I remember thinking, “The truck is going to look like it has gone through a war zone” as I watched the limbs being struck off with the backward propellation. And I started thinking about how to protect myself from serious injury when the truck finally slammed up against something that would halt it. I was hoping I would be able to exit the truck at some point. Knowing Bob would, at some point, notice the truck was missing – I knew he’d start looking for it – and hoped there would be enough evidence at the point where the truck left the roadway; that finding me would happen sooner rather than later. That cheered me up a little and I thought, “I’ll honk the horn to call him to me.”

And then I woke up.

But it did unnerve me a little.