Dream of: 21 December 1994 "Dark Furry Animal"
I had been staying for a few days in a house in which my old friend from high school and college, Steve Weinstein, was living with other people. The house (which had the same design as the Dallas Zen Center before it was torn down) was a two-story, frame structure, and while Steve occupied one of the rooms on the second floor, I had been staying in a room on the first floor. At this particular time, everyone else in the house, including Steve, was away, leaving me with little to do. I recalled that I knew another person who lived in the city, and I thought I would like to call that person. However, I also recalled that the person's phone number was stored on my computer, and that although I had the computer with me, I had never hooked it up, and I didn't want to do so now. I also recalled that Steve should have the person's number in his room upstairs, but I didn't think it would be a good idea for me to go into Steve's room and search through his things for the number.
From where I was, I could see into the kitchen, which was in the rear of the house. Noticing that someone had come through the back door, I walked to the kitchen and there found someone standing dressed in a costume which looked like a large, dark, furry animal, perhaps a rodent. At first I thought it was Steve dressed in the outfit, but when the person pulled the top of the costume off, revealing his face, I saw that it was a man whom I had never seen before. He was thin, had a mustache, and was probably in his late 30s. Immediately apprehensive, I picked up a dining chair and used it to push the man toward the door. But he eluded me, and another man entered the door. The second man was followed by a third and then a fourth man. Some got past me into the house.
By now I was quite concerned and realized I was in serious trouble. The first man finally spoke, saying they intended to rob the house and execute me. When one of the men began reaching for a weapon in his pocket, I made a wild dash for the front door, which was right in front of the stairway to the second floor. Was this how I was going to die? Had my time finally come? I reached for the door knob and the lock at the same time, knowing I must open the door without any delay. I wondered if I made it to the street whether I could run fast enough, and whether I should run zigzag to avoid being hit with bullets.
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