Just before waking to the cat screaming for breakfast at 5 AM I was having an odd dream, so I thought I would share. Feel free, if you are into that dream interpretation stuff, to weigh in down in the comments.
I found myself, and my friend (sans her partner) wandering in a sunny but rather plain, treeless neighborhood of cookie-cutter homes, searching for one that she might be interested in buying. Apparently she believed that I had some skill in determining what to look for when purchasing a home, yet why she left her partner out of the mix seems odd, as I assume they were purchasing as a couple.
The houses here were smallish, but actually quite nice. Wood floors, nice layouts, clean, nice yards. The only drawback was that they were all exactly the same, even down to paint colors.
We looked, I gave my opinion, we turned a corner and found ourselves in a heavily forested neighborhood, one much like an area just a few blocks from where I live now. We had also acquired a new friend, a 20-something man with a black Labrador retriever. I have no idea who he was, and I never learned his name, but he was friendly. These houses were not new. They were likely built in the 1990’s by the materials used and their features, but like the other neighborhood, every single one was for sale.
My friend disappeared to look at a house she found interesting and I found myself approaching a house on a hill, following behind the man/dog combo. We were coming up on the house from a hill, covered in spongy seaweed type ground cover and thick trees. I was none to happy about this and remember wondering why we were climbing through this odd back yard and not simply going around the corner on the sidewalk to approach the house from the front. It was a steep incline and my fear of heights was on overdrive.
The man/dog combo disappeared around the edge of the house and when I finally made it up to the top, I came face to face with the home owner who was having an animated conversation with an invisible (to me) person about the legend of the local girl murdered nearby. I came to understand that there was some sort of unwritten, unspoken rule that no one could name the exact house that the murder occurred in. I think this had something to do with the fact that everyone was selling their homes. Sort of a pact among the local folk to keep the cover up of this murder under wraps.
Next, and last scene, has me, my friend and the dog (which now seems to belong to her) inside a home with two women. It is dark outside, late at night. I am sitting at an old table across from one of the women. My friend is wandering around, being shown the house by the other woman. I am eating (scarfing down) a salad because apparently I haven’t eaten since early morning. In front of me is also a longish plate with deviled (maybe just hard-boiled and cut in half) eggs. The odd thing is that each half egg is definitely egg, but seems to be decorated like a artfully frosted sugar cookie. The woman and I are making small talk as I keep shoveling salad in my mouth and I’m trying desperately to hint that this old box of a home, with it’s walls and ceilings entirely covered in dark, dirty 1970’s style paneling, must be the murder home. I mean, aren’t all murders meant to happen in creepy, dark, homes? I also remember thinking that these two women were witches, and I was suspicious that the murder was tied to some sort of satanic cult ritual. I also remember wondering in my dream, just before the loudest real cat yowl woke me, if by some chance my salad was laced with drugs, or poison and I was going to become the next murder victim, likely buried under that hill of vegetation that I had climbed up, or maybe entombed behind one of those ugly paneled walls.