Blue_Opossum

Morning of January 8, 2014. Wednesday.



I am in a large building, somewhat like a composite between a residential house and a warehouse, but with library features. There are computers set up here and there near mostly corners.

There is a war going on to the north - which seems a bit “off” as it seems to imply two cultures setting off bombs and such in the same area of where each are otherwise living. It also seems a bit like a part of the north-side of La Crosse. I watch 1940s USA military aircraft fly overheard, dropping strange small doughnut-shaped explosives everywhere, even near their own men, but it is mostly the enemies that are killed. I even see a large loom very close to the building I am in, with about three bodies hanging from it and a couple on the ground. Somehow the loom was supposedly being used to make weapons (which makes little sense). The characters remind me a little of ones from a version of “Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves”.

Now and then, there is a slight concern that the bombs will be “too close” to the building, but it is not that much of a worry - and some of the computers seem to be for targeting.

Eventually, a soldier comes in with Usama bin Laden (FBI-based spelling) aka “Osama” (supposedly deceased). In my dream, though, he has a long white beard, yet seems younger. He blows strange “raspberries” at me as a bored, obnoxious child would do. I go into a different room to get something for one of the soldiers and Osama throws four tiny (fictional) “hand grenades” directly at me that he had hidden in his loose garments, so small as to hardly notice the weight hitting me. The soldiers back up, because the explosives are supposedly the most powerful ever made (which means Osama is suicidal here, I guess). They are much like watch batteries (or possibly actually are watch batteries turned into miniature but powerful bombs) with a hole through the center and adhesive on one side (to stick to the clothes of the target, I guess, but not very feasible in the real world due to extremely small surface area), but I note they are also similar to the doughnut-shaped bombs that the airplanes were dropping only much smaller.

I am somewhat annoyed but just fling my arms around, making the “grenades” return to the sender, or rather near his feet. He looks a bit annoyed and surprised at the same time. There is one left on my left arm, which I also fling back. There are no explosions - apparently they only go off when remaining on the target for a certain amount of time (as I believe was the case with the airplane bombs - giving certain soldiers time to make a run for it). There does seem to be a bit of urgency for a short time, but no drama ensues. He is then taken away by the soldiers to be executed. (It is also possible that what he threw at me were I Ching coins, as he briefly seemed to have a Chinese appearance.)

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