Strange dream

[fbhjr]

I dreamed my wife and I went to some sort of big flea market place with lots of stuff. To get in an out of the grounds of it, you have to go through a tunnel with lots of people along the side selling things.
As we were coming back out my wife pointed out to the parking lot.
“By the way,” she said. “I’ve bought you a new car.”
She pointed to a strange orange vehicle. It looked a bit like the aquatic duck things mixed with a compact car. It was small, somewhat triangular and had a high prow in the front.
She handed me the keys.
“You drive that home,” she said. “I’ll take my car back.”
I got in the car. Although it looked small from the outside, inside it was the size of a big van.
I put in the key and started the engine.
The dashboard was very high and covered in dials. It looked like an old airplane dashboard from before most of it was computerized. Although I’m fairly tall, I had trouble seeing over the top of the dashboard and could only do so off to the extreme side.
I thought that my wife must have drive it here, and she is a good bit shorter than I am. So, she must know some way to adjust the seat up. But, I couldn’t find one.
I thought I should go and get her and ask her before she drove away.
I took the key out of the ignition, but the car kept running. I looked all over the busy dashboard for a stop button, but couldn’t find one.
I got out to look for my wife and let the engine running. I did lock the door as I had the key.
I found my wife at the tunnel back into the place and asked her how to shut off the motor and adjust the seat.
“Where is the car parked?” she asked as we walked back out.
I thought that strange as she had just pointed it out to me, but when I looked where it had been, it was gone. I looked around some more and saw it exiting the parking lot and turning right on the road outside.
“There it is, driving away!” I said.
“Let’s follow it!” my wife said.
We ran to her car and got in. She drove while I called the police.
“911, what is your emergency?” the operator asked me.
“Someone just stole my car from the flea market,” I said. “My wife and I are following them south on 135 toward route 9.”
“I’ll inform the police,” the operator said. “But, this is a matter best left to them.”
“I know I’ve got a locator for the police in this phone,” I said. “Please use it to find us as we follow this car thief.”
She said they would as we crossed under route 9 and went into Westboro.
“Please tell the Westboro police we’ve just entered their town following a stolen car,” I told the operator.
“The police are on the way,” she said. “Please keep your distance.”
Because it had taken us a while to get my wife’s car, we were a fair ways behind the car we were following. But, the strange shaped orange car was not hard to see.
It went around a curve and when we did, we saw it parked in front of a very run down place in a bit yard on the right side.
I told the police the address where it had stopped and we got out of our car.
My wife ran over to the house and went in.
I followed.
Inside it looked like a very beaten up mobile home. There was junk everywhere. Walls were falling down. The ceiling was caved in at a few places. But, no one seemed to be there.
My wife went out the back door to the yard, and I followed.
The yard was perfect. Flower gardens, mowed lawn, everything neat and in its place.
I saw a man standing over on the left side and my wife heading towards him.
“Do you think you can just steal our car and get away with it?” she shouted at him.
“Keep back!” he shouted.
When she didn’t he pulled out a shotgun and pointed it at her.
“I’m not afraid of you!” she shouted and kept coming towards him.
“Keep back or I’ll shoot!” he shouted, waving the gun.
“The police are on the way!” I shouted, holding up my phone. “There is a GPS tracker in the phone and they know exactly where it is. They’re on their way right now and if they see you pointing a gun at my wife they will not be happy about it.”
I held my phone out towards him and walked towards him.
He swung the gun to point at me.
“Keep back!” he shouted again.
I got close enough to grab the barrel of the gun and twist it off to my left. It felt very heavy as if it was made out of thick pipe instead of the normal barrel.
I hit him in the face with my other hand. Even though it was not a fist, I felt bone crunch and collapse under my hand.
It was a disgusting feeling.
Dream ends


I’ve really got no idea what set this one off. We have been talking about what to do if my car doesn’t pass inspection this month. And, have said it may take getting a new car.
But, an orange triangular car that appears to have a lot of storage and a bad dashboard design?
That hadn’t been on my list.
And, no idea at all about the theft, case and confrontation.

Comments

[evrgreen.livejournal.com]

I think that you must have had a bad experience on one of those "duck boat" tours in the distant past.. :)

[fbhjr.livejournal.com]

To the best of my knowledge I have never been on one...