I have weird dreams. Not in a disturbing, prophetic way, simply in a 'my subconscious is on drugs' way.
For example, I once had a dream that a giant people-eating strawberry was chasing me through the vegetable section of a grocery store, causing a lot of property damage. Also it was terrifying.
Eeep!
I don't recall the middle, or if there was a middle hunk of plot, but by the end of the dream I was helping the evil strawberry into a pretty blue dress so that she (yes, it had a gender) would look pretty on her date with Justin Timberlake.
...
Indeed.
Recently however, I have had a string of dreams with similar concepts in the same-ish setting. That is, my dreams have been set in different post-apocalyptic universes.
With fewer beards.
To add to the oddness, many of the post-end-of-the-world dreams take place at my grandmother's old farm house. It was basically a bigger, classier version of the Monster House, plus a barn.
Ah, childhood.
I am going to record some of them in blog format. For no reason other than because I can.
Dream of Doom the First
I was a half-ferret, half-human mutant. I lived with a small colony of such beings, including my cousin Bobby. We lived in the barn, not the house. For the love of anything you hold dear,
My joys are simple.
DO NOT GO IN THE HOUSE!
I have no idea why, but I got the impression that Beings similar to the I Am Legend rage zombie things lived inside.
The movie aside, these guys were terrifying.
There is a church across the road from my Grandmother's old house. A refugee group of humans lived inside of it, and it was mine and Bobby's job to go steal food from them. There was a third ferret person with us, who had no name, that I am going to call Red Shirt for now.
Google Image pleasantly surprised me this time.
A van drove up with food, and as soon as they popped the trunk, the three of us dashed forward, grabbed one bag each, and fled up the driveway towards the barn. The humans let us go, as they pitied us.
Also, my grandmother's driveways is a good 150 meters long, plus an extra 60 meters to get to the barn.
As we passed the house, Red Shirt questioned why we do not live there. We told him he is stupid and to keep running. Red Shirt then entered the house.
Yep.
We abandoned, him like the good friend we were, and continued to the barn. The elder ferret-man laments Red Shirt's stupidity, and we eat.
The End.
I still wonder what kind of apocalypse would result in ferret-man mutants.
His master plan - we'll never see it coming!
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