Dream of:14 March 1990 "Sirens And Bombs
I had returned toPortsmouth and had gone to visit Clifford (who looked about 20 years old and whom I had known since we were classmates in the seventh grade of junior high school in 1964). Clifford who was still married to Peggy (who had been in the same seventh grade class with us). He was in what appeared to be a wood-working shop which he had set up on Chillicothe Street, in the area where I would have thought Fred Tindall's sign shop might have been. Apparently Clifford was a wood-worker. I found him in the basement of the shop, and although we hadn't seen each other in a long time, we got along quite well talking with each other.
I was anxious to tell Clifford about a dream I had just had the night before. In the dream, while the two of us had been talking together on the second floor of a building, the building had begun rocking, as if it had been shaken by an earthquake. One wall of our room had been missing, so I had been able to look out onto the street and see other buildings also rocking. I had heard what sounded like air raid sirens. Suddenly Clifford had shouted out something about its being January the twentieth. Apparently something was supposed to happen to us on January the twentieth. Clifford had said something about going to the bomb shelter and then he had jumped out of the building onto the street. I had jumped out behind him. He had ducked around the corner, apparently headed for a bomb shelter. I had intended to follow him, but had suddenly seen a plane flying low over our heads and carrying a large bomb under it. The plane had suddenly dropped the bomb and I had seen it land right next to me. It had been too late for me to do anything, because it had been an atomic bomb and it had been ready to blow up. I had seen a flash of light, and then had awakened from my dream.
I was anxious to tell Clifford about the dream, but I also wanted to talk with Clifford about an incident which I recalled having happened in the sixth grade of school, but then remembered it had actually happened in the seventh grade. I told Clifford how at that time I had been attracted to Peggy and how I used to walk her home. But I had never told her I was attracted to her. Finally one day Peggy told some people at school that she liked me. From that point on, I never talked to Peggy again, and I hadn't talked to her in all the intervening years. Clifford seemed somewhat surprised to hear my story. Apparently Peggy had never told it to him.
I felt guilty about what I had done by never talking to Peggy again after she had said she liked me, and I had had a dream in which I had told Peggy about how bad I felt. I was now anxious to see Peggy again and tell her how guilty I had felt for so many years, and how I really had liked her. I even thought about gathering together all the dreams in which Clifford and Peggy had appeared and giving them to them to read.
I asked Clifford if he had liked Peggy at the time when I had liked her. I distinctly remembered having talked on the phone with Clifford about Peggy. I had had the feeling then that he had liked her, and then of course he had gone on to marry her. I was curious about when he had actually begun liking her.
Other people who appeared to be family members of Clifford showed up in the basement, apparently to work. As Clifford and I stood in an area which seemed somewhat like a kitchen, Peggy walked in smiling. She was a bit plump, and looked as if she were about 30 years old. She looked quite different; I hardly recognized her. I wanted to talk to her and I had the feeling she wanted to talk with me also, but that she felt somewhat embarrassed about it. She walked past me, and as she did, she touched me on the elbow with her hand. I was wearing a short sleeve shirt, and I understood then that she wanted to talk with me.
I had a good feeling from both of them, as if they were long lost friends with whom I was going to renew my friendship. Now when I returned to Portsmouth I would have someone to talk with; that made me feel good.
Dream Epics Home Page
Copyright 2013 by email@example.com