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Last night I slept for 8 hours. Halfway through, at midnight, I had a powerful dream.
I was lying on my back gazing up at the canopy of an enormous tree. Above the canopy my partner was standing on a steep mountain made of dark rock. I think we were investigating the dangers of rocks falling from the mountain, going through the canopy and burying themselves into the dirt.
Another man walked up toward me, someone I’d never met. He was strutting and rough-looking, acting like he owned the place. But the place was just dirt and a tree, though there was a small building close-by that maybe could be called a house. But the man never even looked toward that building.
Right then the rocks started falling. I don’t know where the strange man went — I was transfixed by the falling rocks. I could somehow see the grains of minerals in them as they fell all around me and plunged deep into the ground. After two rocks nearly hit me, I jumped up and started running.
Then I woke up. I had leapt out of bed and rolled across the floor. My heart was beating wildly. Inside, I was laughing inside — because once again I’d avoided a near-certain death.
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I don’t know how I avoided smashing this computer. Everything else on the floor looked like a bowling ball had passed through.
Anyway, I had a smoke and a cup of coffee and went back to bed, awaiting whatever the next four hours of sleep would bring . . .
