Near the end of a dream, I found myself in a modest restaurant, seated at a table, alone. For whatever reason, I had it in my mind that I was on some sort of task regarding one of the waitresses. The task itself did not bear much relation to the Task of the Month, however, it was obviously inspired by my reading of it.
I can not recall just what it was I was to ask, but I remember feeling that it was direly important, and I was to do anything to complete it. The waitress happened to be my server, (In the dream I assumed it was set up to be so), and approached me with the typical notepad + pen.
Before I could complete whatever it was I was to do, a rough, worn looking man rose from his chair a few meters away. He shouted, and placed a lemon to his brow. However conspicuous this was, I assumed it was some sort of signal, and another man appeared and ran off with the waitress. I bolted outside, (I had not been watching spy movies before sleeping, by the by), and approached a gray van parked outside.
I tore open the back doors, finding a man in front of a plethora of surveillance equipment. He, then, shouted at the driver, and they took off, leaving me in the street.
I looked around: I was in a quiet little town. The diner seemed to be a simple brick building now, and opposite the street were endless houses. Monstrous, billowy trees blocked my vision of much else. There was a clear sky above, and it looked a little past noon.
Looking upon the sky, I became lucid. Looking at my surroundings once more, I found a man with an enormous afro cantering down the sidewalk, wearing fairly light clothes for the chill the air bore. Following him, he quickened his pace.
'Do I have free will?' I asked him. Without stopping, he looked at me, his eyes squinted, as if he were looking directly into the sun. He paused, just for a moment, before replying with a very flat 'No.'
He continued on, faster than before. Shouting after him, I asked him if he was sure. Nearly running now, he shouted back over his shoulder, 'No!'
Committing his answer to memory, I turned and jogged down the opposite direction.
Going past the aforementioned trees, I found myself in a beautiful park, surrounded by trees and a pristine lake. The sky was an intricate pattern of colors now, mostly purple.
Jogging on, I was joined by the waitress from the restaurant. We said nothing, but nodded in recognition.
We sat down by the lake at a simple picnic bench, enjoying the view. At this point, a squirrel (Perhaps a groundhog, I cannot say) accosted me, beating my shin with a stick. :?
I awoke, a little confused, but satisfied.
