Write about a dream you remember.
I had a very bizarre dream a few nights ago. That’s how bizarre it was. I still remember it despite what people say about us forgetting our dreams the next day.
I dreamed I struck rich. No, not the lottery kind.
I dreamed I inherited a huge sum of money. From who, I don’t know. My dream self was trying to figure that out too. Anyway, I dreamed I used the money to buy a historic (if there is such a thing) property in Manhattan. The property looked like a mansion on the outside but was actually a major fixer upper with major levels of neglect by its previous owner.
Its garden was full of weeds and overgrowth. The interior was full of mold and who knows what else.
After much renovation and restoration, the property became the center of magazine covers and a popular local attraction. People were willing to pay money and stand in long lines to visit the property. Suddenly my new home became a museum of sorts and I became restricted to just the second floor, which was off-limit to tourists.
Of course, all fantasy must end with a bang.
One ordinary day, there was a loud shattering sound from below followed by screams, shouts, and panicked shuffles. I went down to check it out and discovered a chandelier shattered on the floor and in the distance, I heard, pop pop pop, and before I knew, I was standing frozen in a never-ending hallway as chandeliers falls one by one.
I wonder what the dream meant and I’m pretty sure my unconscious third eye is trying to tell me something.