rshort1202

I’m sitting towards the front of a coach bus with a smaller group of unfamiliar others. Sitting on the right side, i watch as the bus starts to tilt to the right. At first it almost seems as if it’s just settling, but then the lean intensifies, and I can feel tension arise. It hesitates and then unavoidably completes the lean, tossing us out of our seats as it crashes down on its side. After it’s over, I think it’s not as bad as it could’ve been. Everyone is walking away, just shaken. The driver, a lanky older man, walks away completely, looking embarrassed, which I find cowardly. Now Melissa is here and we’re going through the luggage we have. I notice that I’ve completely forgotten a toiletries bag.



I’m in a house with Melissa (it feels like our house in the dream and looks nothing like our house in reality). I’m in what feels like the living room, which feels like a big open room with a single-level pagoda built into it. It extends up to the high ceiling, its own roof just below? There are some hanging plants on the structure - in mostly ceramic pots - and Melissa has taken them down, I think without intending to return them. I liked how they looked, but I think they were the previous owner’s.