Running down two dreams

Last night, two dreams in which I was running.

Dream #1, The Good Dream:

I am standing on a quiet street on a pleasant day. There is no traffic, so this may be a residential area. Sitting on the curb are three people I know, though I can’t recall now if they were real people or dream people. I decided I would play a guessing game with them in which I would run before them as a famous person or fictional character and they’d have to guess who. The three I chose were:

1. Terry Fox
2. Steve Austin (The Six Million Dollar Man)
3. Tina Belcher, from Bob’s Burgers

The dream ended shortly after I’d presented my Terry Fox run.

Dream #2, The Bad Dream:

I am outside and it is dusk. I am near the side of a large building, there are two doors on the wall– men’s and women’s washrooms. I try the door on each, both are locked. I nod, because it is getting late and it is not surprising they are closed now. I realize it is later than I thought, as it is getting dark and there are no nearby lights. I start to head back to the front of this large building, which now seems to be the Moose Lodge in Duncan (it has been known for many years as the Duncan Lodge, I am recalling the version from my younger days). Across the parking lot I see a young woman walking slowly toward me. There is enough light to make the person look like someone from The Ring and I become alarmed and start to sprint toward the front entrance. I move in that syrupy slow way of bad dreams, but make it inside and instead of fumbling with the round door lock like a slasher movie victim, I manage to smoothly switch it over into the locked position.

I am safe. It seems now that the Moose Lodge interior has been replaced with the home I grew up in, so I am standing in our downstairs hallway. There is still very little light, so I head toward the next room, the kitchen. As I get close to the doorway, I can see someone standing in the centre of the kitchen, unmoving. Light coming in from the window over the kitchen sink hits the figure from behind, giving it outline and form. The head is bowed, the figure is not moving at all. Instead of panicking, I inch forward and snap on the light.

When the light comes on, there is no one standing there, if there had ever been. I make some kind of audible sound–a moan of relief, a cry, something. I then realize I am awake and making the same sound. I feel a bit silly and stop.

I mull over what prompted each dream, but can’t make any connections. I fall back asleep and spend the rest of the night dreamless.