Narrative:
-I don’t remember this part, just a feeling of rebellion and excitement, with a pinch of suspense.-
I remember that I was wearing a military uniform, one of those grey, bulky things , complete with a funny looking hat. whee Yes, I was female in this dream.
I was sitting in a large ship, transporting people, when the back end blew up. Suddenly, I'm this ghost-like figure, floating in the air outside, watching the ship I was on get eaten by the fire.
The scene changes, and I'm running through some sort of city. Apparently, I'm someone else. I could tell because I was wearing some tattered clothes, and I had skinnier arms, I was shorter, and my bones stuck out. The buildings are tall, of an indescribable grey color, and one of them had a single, dark window on it. I can't tell what the time of the day it is, because the area was shaded.
The setting changes again. I’m a ghost again, because I was suddenly flying over some land surrounded by dark blue waters; the sea. I feel like I’m the wind itself, I’m moving so fast. It’s night, and the way is lit by a few stars. The land I’m looking at is swamp-like, with large, still lakes, and dark forests. Off to the distance [which I’m rapidly approaching] is a small-ish island roughly the size of California, Nevada, Utah, and Arizona stuck together. It appears to be rocky around the edges, and has some forest. I only manage to get a quick look at it.
The scenery changed yet AGAIN. This time, I’m flying quickly above the sea, approaching an island. It’s really fun. The air is brushing past my face, the waters glitter from the light [of stars?], and I feel oddly free. I see the island now. It’s a bit bigger than the island I saw earlier. It’s vastly populated by people, judging from the bright lights I see, and a few towering buildings. I think this is where I was running.
It’s day now. I can see that I’m taller, slimmer, and I have darker skin. I see that I’m wearing a grass skirt over shorts. I’m in the middle of a dance [Hawaiian like] with several other females. There is a lady dictator watching our dance, she is hawk-like, with cruel eyes, and sporting a plain dark grey uniform [vaguely Nazi era-like]. Her hair is up in a sharp bun.
I remember my thoughts during this time. Me, and six other females are part of a revolution to escape this island. Apparently, some Nazi-ish people have overthrown the government/rulers of the island, and is rapidly becoming a dictatorship. Our part in the dance is over, and I quickly gather my fellow revolutioneers. Under the cover of a group of wildly dancing girls who conveniently, blocked the view of the lady dictator from us; we slipped off to the hidden side harbor that I have prepared. I think we swim us a-ways to a boat. I don’t remember what happened, only that we have escaped.
Anyhow, we arrive at the smaller island that I saw earlier while flying. We have appeared to up camp already. At the horizon on our left, I spot the swampy land as a broad smudge. I think I’m the leader of this group. There are a few shacks clobbered together, with some long dried grass, wooden poles with the thickness of my fist, and some tattered sailing cloth we bought with us. Canvas, I believe it’s called. I think our version is also rain-proof. There is only one fire going, because we have trouble striking up a flame with flint.
We’re all wearing some rough clothing. Some are shirts, some dresses, some are skirts, and some look like sarongs. I’ll describe mine. It appears to be a light tan color, very worn, but still sturdy. Mine’s a bit too big for me. My shirt is supposed to be sleeveless, but it juts out into small sleeves, because of the size. The middle is tied together with some kind of string to keep it from floating around me. My pants are ankle length, made of the same cloth as my shirt. Everyone else seems to have the same type of cloth as clothes. The dresses appear to be looped over shoulder [slightly Greek styled], while some have skirts, really just cloth tied securely at the waist.
I remember being worried that we don’t have enough people to safely get everything done [high on my list is independently surviving]. I was listing in my head: 2 foragers, 2 cloth makers, 1 hunter, and…then, I remember that other groups were coming in soon too. The closest group is a group of about eight men that should be arriving sometime after us. We’re the first.
And that’s it. The scene fades out as my mother starts saying something.
Bizarre innit? Amazing though. Even better than the one I had about World War III.
[Comment, my non-existant readers! Comment!
]
Community Member