Dream journal
I don’t usually write down what dreams I have, not here, but this was one of those vivid, “dinner was so spicy” kind of inspired dreams that I couldn’t pass it up.
I was in a military uniform, short hair and all. Structure, “yes sir, no sir,” on some base some place. Doing whatever it is that I was supposed to do. Soldiering.
There was a death of some kind. Either an accident or war, or battle. Three soldiers died. I was leaving the base, in uniform, on leave, or something, and I came across the three dead bodies, each draped with an olive drab sheet. Deal is, like in the movies, especially bad movies, I could see that the at least one of the bodies was still breathing.
“Hey, they’re breathing, they’re not dead,” and I pulled the sheet back, only, it wasn’t a body anymore, just the fragment of a skull, “That’s right, we’re not really dead.”
Spooky dreams.
