Dream Journal: Searching for Rifles on Rooftops (April 25, 2009)

Preface

I slept in twice this week to cope because life without roommates is so boring. Today, I woke up the first time at 10am, had a bowl of cereal and decided to go back to bed. The second time I woke up was at noon. I showered, read scriptures, re-wrote yesterday's blog post, listened to the eerie silence surrounding my apartment complex and went back to bed until 3pm.

Dream

It's during these late afternoon naps that my dreams take a turn for the bizarre. I spent three hours climbing stairs of city skyscrapers and searching the rooftops for abandoned sniper rifles. And no, I didn't find any. I just had a feeling that some top secret assassination operation had gone awry, forcing a sniper to make a quick exit and leave their weapon behind.


I deliberately walked every inch of those rooftops in search of rifles. First around the parameter of the rooftop, and then in zig-zags. The air-conditioning units were loud. It was basically the only thing I heard for the full three hours.

WHIRRRZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!

(Someone must have been mowing the lawn outside my window while I slept, or something. Actually, it was probably the loud, rhythmic thumping of the fat rain drops on the cars outside.)

Occasionally I heard a large truck or a traffic horn far below. The roofs were covered in that dark, sand-papery stuff that people put on their rooftops before nailing down shingles. I tromped over pipes and bird poop-stained metal plates. I remember feeling scared that one of the pipes would be scolding hot and burn through my pant leg.

After searching numerous rooftops and coming up empty, I decided to give it up and try again in another dream.