Dream of: 28 March 1989 "Smoking"

I was walking up to Walls house, different from any house in which I had ever seen him live. Although difficult to see because the sky was dark, the house seemed to be a small frame house of two stories, painted white. It seemed to be in a secluded area with no other nearby houses. Just as I walked up to the house, Walls stepped out the front door and walked over to his car. He seemed surprised when he saw me and he asked me how I was. I told him I wasn't doing so well and I asked him if he had anything which could help me. I was hoping he had some marijuana. He told me to come into the house and I walked inside with him.

Inside we encountered two other fellows. On a table in the room lay a large comic magazine which had the word "smoking" in large print on the front, and seemed to have pictures of different brands of cigarette rolling paper from around the word. I immediately began talking about the drug laws and how strict they were. I also mentioned the rules of legal evidence and I said that if the house were raided, probably everything in the house would be allowed into evidence. That magazine certainly wouldn't look good if entered into evidence.

One fellow pulled out a large bag which contained what appeared to be a number of beige nylon stockings filled with a green leafy substance. After looking at the substance (which appeared brown upon closer scrutiny), I concluded it was marijuana. One fellow said the marijuana was Panamanian, while another fellow pulled out a large joint and lit it. As they began passing the joint around, I asked one fellow if they would sell me some of the marijuana, but he said he couldn't. I told him that if he was worried about my being an undercover police officer, he could sell the marijuana to Walls and Walls could sell it to me. He started to think it over and it looked as if he would indeed sell it to me.

Meanwhile, I also had a joint in my pocket which I pulled out. I didn't light it because I knew it wasn't very good marijuana. I continued smoking from the joint they had lit, which had a pleasant taste. However, I had difficulty getting any smoke out of the joint and I still wasn't feeling any effects. Suddenly we all heard a car door slam. Paranoid, I immediately wondered if the police might have arrived. I was afraid there was too much marijuana in the house to get rid of if the police came. I was also wondering if I could be convicted of possessing the large sack in the room even though it wasn't mine. Someone handed the sack to me and I thought if the police somehow took a picture through the open window of me holding the sack, they could convict me on that.

I walked over to the window, looked out and saw a policeman getting out of a white truck. I hollered to the others that the police had arrived. The others looked shocked for an instant and Walls told the others to get rid of the marijuana. Apparently he wanted them to take it to the bathroom and flush it. I knew there was too much to flush, and they seemed to hesitate to flush it anyway in case it might be a mistake. Indeed I wondered why the police hadn't already broken down the door. But then I heard the police announce themselves at the door and demand that it be opened. I had already begun crushing in my hand the joint which I had brought in with me and I was looking for a place to hide it. I also wondered if I might be able to go upstairs into the attic and crawl out a window. Perhaps I could manage to get away without the police ever seeing me.

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