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I was inside a small store and I was a dressed as a Muslim with a hijab. There were some other people there I know from waking life who are actually Muslim and we were doing art projects or something and discussing morality and the such. I cannot remember most of the dream but a lot of it was me running around trying to do my thing without upsetting or offending them.

I specifically remember an older gentlemen and a woman offering me alcohol. Even though I do drink the stuff in real life I refused in the dream. The old man was saying something that intoxication was a sin, not the drink itself or something.

There is a lot more to the dream but it slipped from my mind before I could get it down. At the end of the dream the group of people were sitting around a table drawing in sketchbooks. I specifically remember the old man was drawing hotdogs in charcoal and many other people doing similar still-life subjects in pencil crayon or watercolour paints.

Morning of January 5, 1997. Sunday.

Quite a few men want to fight. It is near a flight of stairs (waking precursor feature). The apartment building we are living in seems unfamiliar (though that does not trigger any sort of focus or uncertainty). I seem to have special powers including an ability to transform into having a monstrous appearance.

The men are drunk and I pound them and toss them down the stairs into an actual pile. More men appear and I am able to throw them about. It seems to be from at least the second floor at one point.

Oddly, they seem to transform into broken beer bottles at one point. Other beer bottles appear near the top of the stairs, which I also toss down the stairs. After a time, there seems little difference in the essence between the broken beer bottles and what used to be men. (I am not a drinker in real life and it is also quite rare for me to dream about alcoholic beverages in any way.)