09/03/10 I'm on a scaffold next to a roof, scooping leaves out of the gutter. I scrape the soggy mess away from the shingles and into the eavestrough, then pull it all out. The leaves disappear at this point. There's nowhere to put them. I'm moving slowly from left to right, caught up in the mindless task. The dream is pleasantly hazy and restful. And then... the roof falls away. I'm left looking at a collapsed section of the roof. It leads down to a shallow pit filled with tar. The wind stirs up a bit, and I remember that this was the center of a huge mystical battle. Many people died. The rumours say that it's haunted, but no one wants to believe that. For a loved one to be trapped as a ghost is one of the worst experiences imaginable in this world. A glint of red catches my eye. The sun lights up the crevasse, showing a red-haired woman standing quietly. Her hands are folded in front of her. She stares ahead with a blank expression. A man comes over from where he's been working on the roof, probably wondering why I've stopped. He's physically imposing, in his late 40s at least, and he's wearing an eyepatch. When he sees the ghost in front of him, he goes very still. I can feel his sadness. I wake up. Scare Factor: 2/10 Rating: 4/10 The ghosts were most definitely inspired by the Felix Castor book I'm reading right now. P.S. I'll be gone for the weekend. If I have any interesting dreams, I'll keep track of them.
Updated 09-03-2010 at 09:50 PM by 31096
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