Dream

Both last night and the night before were non-melatonin dreams. 

Last night I dreamed that there was an extraterrestrial existential threat to the earth, and we (the collective dream we, I don't recall specific characters) needed to combat it by using super non user friendly technology. It felt very Enders Game in that regard. 

An alarm would sound, we'd scramble to get our equipment set up and struggle to operate it. I recall my father being visited, but he wasn't disabled and he was smoking a cigarette. He gave us advice on how to use a specific aspect of the technology, or gave us a new piece of it or something. I also remember my mother having been present but I do not recall the context. 

I also recall that there was a large cylindrical hole in the ground, studded with dwellings on the way down. People huddled in these for safety from the aerial attacks. The whole dream had a very hurry up and wait element to it. 

dream

 

When I dream the most vividly, I dream about locations. My mind will spend more time creating and fleshing out the space in which the dream takes place than on the structure or contents of the dream itself. 

Last night I dreamed about being stranded/ trapped/ marooned in a floor of an apartment building during a cataclysmic event. I'm not clear on what the event was. There didn't seem to be zombies, but houseless people wandered the streets. At one point an ominous cadre of military vehicles drove over the overpass that was visible from one of the windows of the apartment. 

I don't recall who all was there. I am not even certain if the perspective I was seeing though was my own or that of another character. It may have even been a single apartment rather than a whole floor. The question of going up or down a floor never came up or was considered. We could leave to scavenge. 

At one point, one of the residents of our apartment situation came back with a hippo? and some sort of large bird. Escaped or liberated from the zoo. The bird, at our behest, lifted a chunk of apartment from where it rested and flew us up to a higher, safer vantage point. I'm not sure how it detached it or how it possessed such unreal strength. You don't question that sort of thing in dreams. 

The apartment itself felt very cosy and secure. We could see out all the windows to good vantage points. We generally had enough food. The walls were crowded with decoration, but everything was tinted a gray blue color so no individual piece jumped out. The kitchen felt like one from a place I lived before - a small corner of fridge, sink, counters. An island at its corner, defining the small square that was the area. We had power, until we didn't. I recall watching movies in tired feeling old easy chairs with my compatriots. 

Narratively, when the power went out, some of us emerged to go foraging. I don't recall what broke our cover but at some point random walking citizens found our oasis, and began inviting themselves inside. This lead to a feeling of invasion, though I don't recall that we were in any danger from them. I woke up around when this was happening. But even now, I have a sort of vision of the drab grey oasis of an apartment. In the middle of a city, populated with a ragtag group of survivors and zoo animals.  

Oops I missed October completely