Another Dream

I was in Japan. I don’t know how I got there, or how knew it was Japan but it was. I was heading down to the lobby. The hotel had small oddly shaped lifts, slides, ladders, poles to use to get down. In the lobby were people I knew. I don’t know who they were but I knew I was part of a group. We went into the restaurant to eat but I don’t recall eating. That part was skipped. Then we went to the hotel bar and I assume we drank but that part was also skipped.

Then I’m back somewhere upstairs heading down to the lobby again. The sequence replayed a few times but each time I had to use a different method of getting there. I never saw any room I might have been in.

I’m outside the hotel. There is a cart of some sort, chairs in it 2×2. I sat on the front right. Others from the group occupied the others. The driver was at the rear. This cart didn’t drive though, it hovered, flew.

We went through city streets, going high and dropping low. Lots of normal city sights. Then we went out to the countryside. The driver would fly at a cliff and at the last moment pull up vertically, or he’d swoop down into valleys. It was evening. At some point I lost something from a pocket, but I don’t know what I lost.

Then I’m in that countryside alone and I’ve acquired two shoulder bags. I can see the lights of a bright city very close so I walk there.

It’s a video game city. Intense lights, music, video walls, people, fairground atmosphere. I play on some attractions, flying along kart tracks, through clouds. I am distracted and someone takes the bag I was carrying on my right.

I had not looked in the bags at all, but I knew, just knew, that the stolen bag had my passport, travel documents, camera, money and other important things in. I wanted some help but everything was written in japanese so I was lost. I wandered every street, looked at every sign, tried asking people. There was nothing.

I found an Information point and someone there called a policeman. He asked me to empty the bag I still had. It was full of receipts, scraps of paper. All useless to me.

Then I’m in a dimly lit room. I could see a wardrobe, a door and a bare window. It was pouring rain outside.
Jacqui was here.
I couldn’t see her clearly but it was her, her voice.
She said I’d need to wrap up well for the walk to work because of the rain. She said she couldn’t give me a lift because she had an appointment elsewhere. But I knew she could have given me a lift, that she was deliberately not doing so. I got very resentful, maybe angry. I went to the wardrobe to get a coat.

And the dream froze.

I couldn’t look around, couldn’t talk, hear. I could just see the fuzzy outline of the wardrobe. It stayed that way until I woke up for real.

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