Unidentified Objects

One of my meds is stimulating my dreams. Each of the people in last night’s dream came through a YouTube clip or encounter. We watched the construction of a motor home out of a big Blue Bird school bus. Even the tire size was explained. Even some of the conversations.

In the dream, our group was on the road in our bus. We had a guest. I told my people I had driven as far as I could. Our guest said she could drive, so I took over the passenger seat. At one point our tour took on unfamiliar territory. I awoke from my nap in the shotgun seat to tell the driver, “You probably shouldn’t have turned left.” We were in a sub-division and then the bus was inside someone’s living room. (In dreams, magic things like re-sizing buses to get them through entrance doors can happen.)

“How did we get in here?” The driver asked. Since I had no answer, we just sat there. Apparently, the home housed kids. There were toys everywhere, but the bus had weaved between them all and no toy was broken. The house was full of huge, bright, color, flowers. Not one was struck nor squashed.

“What do we do, now?”

I told our guest driver to just back up exactly like she had entered. In the dream, I observed the meticulous trek between flowers, toys, dining room tables. Amazing!

“And now what?”

“We will get back on the Interstate and leave the bus tire tracks on the carpet. The resident family will figure out the mystery—maybe they will conclude a UFO landed for lunch.”

If you found tire tracks on your living room floor this morning….

©2024 D. Dean Benton

My brand new novel:  Carafe Conspiracy—follow the link.  (No tire tracks or guest drivers. )

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1537105