(no subject)
I dreamt that Dan and I moved in to a house where an old woman had been murdered by her carer in the '50s. The decoration in the house was untouched since her death. It was a beautiful house. She had a wonderful bedroom with lots of storage space, which of course was perfect for me because I still own most of all I ever owned from my late teens. The woman had worked in a sweet factory before retiring and there remained numerous unopened packets of sweets scattered around and there were antique candy vending machines everywhere.
I went to explore the area, looking for our local supermarket. At one moment it was disguised as a pub, the next an airport and a moment later it was a train station.
There was an old man in the station lobby/entrance area, wearing no shoes, who accosted me in bittersweet, faux-gentle tones. I tried to reassure him, but I said something that made him unhappy. He angrily grabbed at me, putting one arm around my back, restraining my arms, with his other arm holding a knife up against my throat. He led me inside of the store. He was whispering threats into my ear, warning me not to draw any attention. Nobody had noticed either of us as they continued to shop, baskets in hands, so I let out a shrill cry, but still nobody looked over. He then shot me in the chest with a gun that he must have had concealed in his overcoat. I fell to the floor beside the meat counter, half propped up by the steamed window where cuts of meat pressed, like human flesh in a bathtub, against the glass. I began drifting in and out of consciousness. My mother was then crouched above me, looking around at all of the strangers in the supermarket, garnering their attention by crying out, "My baby! My baby is going to die!" and she was smiling.