Last nights dream, like most of my dreams, seems, on the surface, to have come out of nowhere. I began the dream as a Jewish prisoner in a two-story house during World War II. Kevin Chupp (my Freshman roommate) was a prisoner with me, and together we were locked up in a musty old room for the first part of my dream. The room seemed to be falling apart. The coloring was cold, though browns were the primary colors of this dream. There were no windows to let light in, and the room was lit by cracks in the wall that leaked light in from other rooms of the house.
After moping about for quite some time, the war finally ended, and Kevin and I were set free. Unfortunately I could no longer walk, so I was forced to use a wheelchair. Kevin and I went our separate ways, so I had to wheel myself down the road alone.
The road on which I traveled was winding all over the place and it seemed to be made of dust. Most of the scenery was open fields, and the only man-made structures were clay buildings. It was light outside, yet there was no sun, and there was a strange coloring to the lighting as well that I cannot describe.
Finally I reached my destination, which turned out to be a garage sale taking place inside of a wooden supermarket. There were all kinds of old toys, many of which I wanted to purchase (especially after the tough time I had gone through). I saw my old neighbor there as well, and we talked for a little while.
I eventually left the store without making a single purchase. Once I returned to the dusty road, I lost all control of the wheelchair and began to roll uncontrollably towards the horizon.
Then I awoke.
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