I have just found an old journal where I recorded a few of my dreams six and four years ago. Here are some fragments.
I lost my shoes in the mud, then they floated out into the water. I kept fearing that they would sink, but the other person reassured me they'd float. There were lots of lost shoes: sandals and flip flops, floating over the pond. I had to climb onto a raft to retrieve mine.
His car was pulling a trailer, and it was going out of control. I was really mad at him. Both of us were in the trailer. No one was in the cab.
I was running toward a clear plain in a canyon, and I realized the side jutted up really high, so I started running back toward the other side, because I was afraid this huge wall would fall down on me. The other side of the plain was rocky, muddy and difficult to run through. This was like the old land in New Waverly.
A glass steepe with all of these pretty shoes, but all I wanted were shoes that would fit my feet. I said I usually got them at Wal-mart.
Romance novel Cinderellas, watching an opulent royal procession, and on the glass steppe looking at shoes. I could have any of them. Most were high-heeled or strappy or with foil-like lame. But I had to find some that actually fit me.
The Rose Red house, a haunted mansion. The owners had done something to make violent ghosts. I didn't want to admit that I was too afraid to go inside.
An auditorium near the Rose Red house. Someone requested techno music. Nathan was going to submit his work.