Pickman

This is a short one, but I thought I would write about it.

The non-lucid part of the dream takes place in the world of The Walking Dead, where a character from the soap opera Coronation Street (UK members will be familiar with this) has to cut off a few of his fingers in exchange for something he wants.

Then I find myself trapped in a room full of heavy coats on racks. I get claustrophobic and wake up at 4am.

I go back to sleep ten minutes later after writing my dreams down, and I find myself dreaming about the Walking Dead again. This time, I'm in a long workshop of some kind,
working on something in a bench. Darryl is there, we chat, but I can't remember what about.

Then it gets weird when a group of very middle-class looking people start filing into the room with notepads, and sit behind us against the wall. They don't look like they have been trying to survive in a zombie apocalypse.

I turn to Darryl, and I say "This is a dream, isn't it?"

He confirms that it is. We both enthusiastically high-five each other before heading off in opposite directions.

I approach a couple of young women and engage them in conversation. They seem nice enough, but then I realize that I was supposed to do something, possibly a TOTM. but I completely forget what it was.

Then I woke up.