Dream of: 24 February 1997 "Simulated Death"
Two other Americans and I were in a primitive country, where we were plotting to stay. The three of us had been staying with a doctor, who had arranged for us to simulate our deaths. As the three of us acted as if we were dead, the doctor put a mask on each of us, a mask which covered the entire face. The doctor then wrapped each of us up in plastic. The doctor then loaded us into the back of a truck, which was supposed to haul us away to another place. Later, the plan was for us to leave the place where we had been taken, and make our way back to the doctor without anyone else knowing about it.
After we had been loaded into the truck, as far as I could tell (I couldn't see well because of the mask) we were driven to the other place, and unloaded into a small building. After the three of us had been left alone, and we were lying there on the floor of the little building, I began thinking to myself that something just didn't seem to be right here. It occurred to me that maybe there was actually a plot to kill the three of us. Not knowing what to do, I began to struggle, trying to get out of my plastic sack. But I couldn't move well, and finally, almost in a panic, I screamed out, "Help!"
Immediately I felt something lying next to me on my left, and I realized it was Picasso. The realization that Picasso was next to me helped to calm me down, and I lay back, trying to figure out what I was going to do next.
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