Dream of: 27 March 1995 "Looking For My Gun"
Just as I was about to go to sleep on the large bed in which I was lying, with a start, I suddenly realized my .38 caliber gun which I kept on the stand beside me at night wasn't there. Searching for a reason why it wasn't, I tried to place myself. I knew I was on the second story of a large two-story house. I recalled that I normally didn't sleep in this bedroom, but that since everyone else in the house was away for the night, I had decided to spend the night in the room. Normally I slept in the basement, where the gun now was.
I felt much more secure when I had the gun with me. If I had it now, I would place it right on the bed beside me. But I certainly didn't want to go all the way to the basement. It was a long way, and all the lights were out. Yet I felt so insecure without the gun.
Almost as if I were watching myself, I stood up from the bed, knowing I must go to the basement and get the gun. Although I was so groggy I could hardly think, my movements were swift and sure. I fairly glided to the door, paused, and thought I heard a sound in the hall outside. I didn't want to go out, but again, practically without willing it, I opened the door and looked out into the long, darkened, yet white, hall. I pushed into the hall and virtually floated along it. I couldn't feel my feet touching the ground. As I went, I made a sound, "Unh. Unh.," hoping to scare away anyone that might be here. Since my mind was hardly working, it was about the only sound I could make; I thought to myself it was the kind of sound I knew I sometimes made when I was asleep and having a dream.
As I proceeded, I thought my actions even resembled someone sleep-walking. On one hand I was very alert to everything I was doing, but on the other hand I was so tired I could hardly move.
I knew the way well. I quickly floated down the stairs to the first floor. Ahead of me was a set of double doors, which I pushed through. Moving into the other room, I thought it was like entering into a whole new world; but it was only another bedroom: the last room before the stairs to the basement. As I passed by the bed and headed toward the basement door on the far side of the room, I stopped and turned back to the bed in the middle of the room. A cover was on the bed and it looked as if someone was lying under the cover.
Now I was spooked. Since everyone was gone, no one should be lying in this bed. Again, unable to control my will, I reached out my hand and grabbed what appeared to be the foot of the person in the bed. The foot was small and seemed more like a stick than a foot. But when I pulled on it, I was sure it was connected to a body. I tugged at it several times, realizing it was dangerous to awaken this person, but still unable to stop myself from doing it. When my tugging failed to rouse the person, I moved my hand up near the chest area, hoping to at least ascertain whether it was a man or a woman. I touched and felt the soft flesh of a woman's breast. Finally, in a voice which I recognized as my garbled sleep voice, I called out, "Who's there? Who is that?"
As the figure began to bestir itself, I realized I might have made a mistake. I backed to the basement door, thinking I should be concentrating on getting my gun. Then I could face the person in the bed.
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