dream.

I'm driving frantically, late for something (as per usual), in my car on a cold and wet morning through the darkness of pre-dawn. I make a sharp left-turn into a huge parking lot that looks like it belongs to a deserted department store and park. Someone has been following me for some time. As I grab my things from the back seat of the car the couple who has been following me walks past me and glares. I give them some time to get several steps ahead before making my way towards the building we're all about to enter, which looks like an ancient English castle or something. Inside it's modern looking, like the waiting room of a new hospital or a typical office lobby. I turn right down a long hallway towards the elevators and the couple are crouching around a corner, seemingly hidden. The doors to the elevators open and I step inside, attempting to select my floor and hit the 'doors close' button, when the man pushes himself into the elevator and gets right in my face. I struggle to push him out of the doors, but they close before I can succeed. I move to the opposite side of the elevator and he stares at me. At my floor he gets off and follows me. I walk into a room and suddenly the setting changes...a grassy, suburban backyard. Still dark. The man now has sheathed knives that he's attempting to throw at me, but I dodge them. He holds the sheaths and does a flipping motion to dislodge and hurl the blades towards me. At one point we're only a foot away and he tries his last one, which I catch by the handle.

The dream then changes...

I'm standing on an open patio in the backyard of a house built on the bank of a man-made lake. In the dream it's Bob Peele's house. I'm talking to Nate Olp, his back to the lake and me facing it. The water is toxic. Disgusting. The top of a long shape begins to emerge within a mucus-like bubble from the water, then in an instant it launches at top speed from the water like a missile and crashes into the roof of a neighboring bi-level house. The object looks like one of those tall, industrial oxygen tanks you see being hauled in groups on the backs of small trucks. The roof gives under the impact and the house begins to crumble as if it were made of sawdust or sand...the debris falling into itself, towards the center. Suddenly, it's occupants (a mother and daughter) are standing on the patio and seek refuge within Bob's house. They stand in the kitchen, making phone calls and acting strangely. Nate, Bob, and I go into the living room and drink beers. Mike Hill appears and suggests we listen to some records from his collection. The women appear from the kitchen and start thumbing through Mike's LPs, most of which didn't seem to have any band names or titles on them but donned lots of skulls and satanic imagery. There was a die-cut sleeve in the shape of a zombie, which particularly disgusted the mother and they left.

I awoke.