Blue_Opossum

Morning of September 1, 2015. Tuesday.



I seem to be focused on Loomis Street yet again. However, there are also emotions and realizations associated with our present bedroom on W Street (though it does not quite seem like a typical composite, and yet the setting is limited to the one room, though).

My attention is mostly on an unusual “clock”. It does not apparently serve as a clock though, but some sort of answering machine (though I do not recall having this type of concept appearing in any previous dream).

Only the hour hand is implemented but it does not serve as time-keeping in any way. There is seemingly no minute hand or second hand and the number six, in its proper location, is the only number on the face of the clock.

I move the hour hand to the left (from where it was near the number six), to around where the number eight would be expected to be, and start to hear pleasant music. As I put it in different positions, I hear a lot of very nice music, a lot of it tribal, but with no voices at any point. The audio is very clear (though I do not become lucid).

After spending seemingly at least fifteen minutes listening to very nice music (which apparently is related to being connected to our telephone and plays when we are not home to answer it), I move the hour hand over to the right around where the number four would be expected to be. From around where the number two would be expected to be to that location, there are recordings of my wife or me telling the caller to leave a message, and some of the messages are meant to be in-jokes. I listen to these recordings for a short time (much shorter than when I was enjoying the music) and my dream fades.