In an underground complex, all crumbling concrete
and rusted stairs. There are zombies here, their mouths red with blood and flesh. I pilot a small buggy, knocking many of them over, until I end up being stopped
by the sheer number of moving bodies before me. As I climb out, they vanish. A man in strange suit motions toward a staircase as
an elephant man-type zombie stumbles toward me. I am to fight him: this is entertainment for an unseen audience. I choose to hide behind
a strange wall. The zombie turns into a gun turret which I eventually destroy.
In the past few weeks I was getting a little worried that my lack of memorable midnight recollections would end this chart of nocturnal wanderings, but in the last week or so, I have remembered around 3 dreams a night; in the process of doing so, I have started using my phone to note things down rather than a pad and pen, and then email myself so I actually remember I have the material. Remembering is half the battle. This dream I thought pertinent as I have just finished marking student essays for Spring Term (and presumably this is what inspired it) 'I am circling some sort of warehouse, possibly owned and run by Argos. Inside, a number of my students have killed a man by beating him to death. They now fall about laughing whilst bouncing off inflatable children’s toys. I try to remain stoic in the face of horror, concerned that I may be next. I talk to them a while, and on finding out that ____ is their ring leader, I try to escape. Every path leads back to the warehouse. Insi...
Comments