Dream CCXXVIII

Jenny Nicholson and I were travelling through some dark, desolate country.  It wasn't the Southwest, but it had that same feeling.  Lots of deserted space filled with low hills and deep pathways.  Somehow, we were in a cabin room and simultaneously outside, perhaps on an enclosed porch.

It was night, and pitch black--we couldn't see anything at all.  Some time ago, she and a friend had been down this same way, and were held up by a man with a knife.  They were pretty sure the knife was rubber, but had no way to know.  She was nervous about going on, and she was making me nervous too.

We decided if we were going to press on, we needed some weapons that would intimidate someone with a knife.  We looked around the room and found a gun and a grenade, but we weren't sure if either worked.

We looked into the distance but could see nothing.  I thought I saw a dark figure against the dark green hills, but couldn't be sure.  We decided not to press on, but to return home.

I was exhausted, and stepped forward to give her a hug.  "Oh, hugs are nice," she said, and hugged me back.  We packed up our stuff and trudged up the stairs.

She got ahead of me, and as I reached the top of the stairs, I grabbed the doorway to steady myself.  The door had some clothing draped over it; I asked her if it was hers, but she was too far ahead to hear me.  I thought, then, that it might belong to some nefarious person, and I hurried to catch up to her.