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    Artificial Turf War

    by , 02-02-2015 at 09:40 AM (254 Views)
    Morning of February 2, 2015. Monday.

    At first, I am in a privately owned store that sells primarily older collectable Matchbox cars. The counter is a rectangular area in the center of the large main room with an additional internal area for the owner/cashier who is an older male. I look at the various merchandise, some of which is in square shallow wells in the outer area (over a slightly slanted section) and some of which is more carefully arranged behind glassed-in shelves in lower areas; some of the Matchbox cars with the original box as sold. Many of the die-cast toy cars in the wells are missing smaller areas of paint. In one section, I look at a few different yellow bulldozers, Ground Grinders, and cranes. I pick up one that looks just like a Taylor Jumbo Crane number 11 from the 1960s. (There are also Dodge Crane Trucks and several others.) I get a false memory of it being from the 1970s, but the man mentions something about “optical illusions” when I talk about it and the invalid associated time period (but using a different term, I believe) and I look underneath to see the date 1989 appearing three times in close proximity, including the copyright symbol.

    There are other people in the store including two unknown girls that seem to be shopping together. I eventually notice that there is a large flat screen television near the front of the store. It is showing an adult movie but of which is supposedly only a television show (of which I do not know the name of). A lovemaking scene is apparently beginning, but the man’s erection is actually an artificial device but which is otherwise somewhat realistic (and seems to “operate” somewhat like a miniature crane) - this being done relative to some sort of television standard where certain things cannot be shown. This still does not make much sense to me and is apparently a violation of the broadcasting law even as it is. The girls laugh, though more in shock and surprise at the show even though there is no actual nudity.

    From here, there is an attempt to rob the store, it seems. The door is then actually locked from the inside with the present customers still in the store - which implies that the store owner must have known that the criminal was already on his way. Being somewhat concerned about this seemingly powerful burglar eventually breaking down the door as he pounds and pushes upon it (apparently with superhuman strength), I use some sort of ability to turn everything into steel including the door and doorway being one solid section.

    There is a slight shift and I am outside in the same part of town and a man (perhaps the same robber) makes an announcement, shouting “not everyone here is human” (as if trying to divulge a conspiracy to all the members of the public in the area).

    “You got that right,” I say (emphasis on “that”) as I immediately effortlessly fly upwards into the sky (seemingly being the only one in the region who is “not human”), doing this too quickly for anyone else to pose a threat. After flying around for awhile and enjoying the scenery, I land back near the same area. For some reason, I am aware of the robber being a part of a street gang and there being some sort of turf war. I decide to damage “his” area of the street, which is across the street from the store from the first part of my dream. I lift my hand and cause machine gun fire to spray the entire length of buildings on that side of the street. There is no gun; the bullets are just materializing from the motions of my right hand and putting large holes in all the buildings, with a lot of noise.

    Later, my wife and another (unknown) female get out of a convertible and have a meal in one of the bullet-ridden restaurants. As I was the one who had done this, I do not feel wary in joining them at a small round wooden table (we are the only ones there other than the owner).

    The scene shifts again and I am flying northwards over La Crosse. I fly into the back area of the King Street boarding house, up and over the back stairs, flying through the hallway. Now flying somewhat slowly, I see my wife in the hallway, as she had been looking for me. “Pardon me, just passing through,” I say to the other tenants. She smiles up at me and we leave through the front entrance, her walking down the steps though I am still flying slowly until we leave the building.

    Finally we are all sitting in a convertible. My wife (the implied driver) is in the front seat with the other female and I have transformed into the Silver Surfer, sitting in the back seat behind my wife. However, we are all now sleeping until some sort of (scheduled?) event begins in a week or so, which seems related to a new Marvel movie. I soon look at myself (seeing my face as the Silver Surfer’s from semi-disembodiment perspective) and think about waking up and do, even though I was not lucid at any point throughout my dream.

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