I was in the crowded office of a bankruptcy trustee. Busy people were passing to and fro, dutifully concentrated on their respective tasks. I had not been in an office like this in a long time, and I was thinking I might like to practice some bankruptcy law myself once again. I mingled with some of the personnel and most were helpful and seemed glad to see me again. Only one woman was a bit snotty.

I figured if I were going to practice bankruptcy again, I would need a list of all the people who were currently in bankruptcy. I had in my mind that many of those people currently did not have an attorney, and that if I had the list of all the people in bankruptcy, I could offer my services to them. When I spoke about my plan to someone in the office, I was told that I could probably pick up about twenty clients that way.  Such a number seemed low to me, and I knew that I would need many more clients than that. I concluded that I would have to find some other way of obtaining clients.

When I finally decided to leave, a man walked up to me and began telling me about a problem he was having for which he needed an attorney. I became interested, and together we walked out of the building. He told me that he had received a notice that his house was about to be foreclosed. His house was directly across the street from the bankruptcy trustee's office and as soon as we had stepped outside, I could see it: a splendid large white house, right in front of us.

As the man guided me toward the house, I began to wonder if I might simply be able to buy the house from him. I obliquely broached the subject of my buying the house, and he seemed receptive. However, he warned me that I should know that the house had suffered some fire damage and that the house was haunted.

I was not surprised to hear that the house was haunted, and the idea of buying a haunted house even made the deal more attractive, because I thought I might be able to purchase the house for a lower price if the house were haunted. I already had some experience with haunted houses, and I knew that I had certain powers which I could use to drive out the ghosts. My powers, however, were not well-defined, and even I did not know how my powers functioned or how strong they were. At least, though, I knew that unlike most people, I was able to deal with ghosts at some level.

After the man and I walked through the front door of the house, I was surprised by what I saw. The room before us was sunk down about three or four meters below where we were standing on a narrow ledge which ran all the way around the perimeter of the room so that we could walk around and look down into the room itself. Sitting in the middle of the room below us was a gigantic, wrought-iron bed, several times larger than normal. Numerous indistinct people were milling about in the room below, and at least one person was on the bed.

Over to my right in the corner was a narrow stairs which led from the ledge to the room below. I headed to the stairs and descended into the room.

Once on the floor below, I was drawn to a chest of drawers sitting by itself on the side of the room. As I stood beside the chest, I could hear the screams of many children, screams which seemed to be originating from the drawers. I pulled open the bottom drawer and discovered a carving which filled the entire drawer. I had to look at it for a moment before I realized that the carving depicted an angel. I pulled open the second drawer and saw a similar angel-carving therein. Both carvings looked as if they might have once adorned the exterior of a building. Again, I was not particularly surprised by what I was seeing, and it seemed as if my discovery of the angel-carvings had caused the screams of the children to stop. I closed the drawers and stepped back.

The many people who were scattered around the room seemed to sense my powers and no one interfered with me. When some curtains began violently fluttering, I held out my hand and made the curtains stop moving. No one said anything, but it seemed clear to me, and probably to the others, that I likewise could use my powers over the people if I deemed it necessary to do so.

I could see that this house had been haunted for a long time, and that I would need to examine it thoroughly if I were going to buy it. I still had not seen the fire damage. I thought that perhaps the man had been mistaken, and that there was no fire damage, or that perhaps the fire damage was upstairs. I thought I would next have to head up to the second story.

As I prepared to ascend to the second story, a question came to my mind, "Does the paranormal exist?" It seemed that I was basing much of what I was doing on the assumption that the paranormal did indeed exist. Yet I was still uncertain of the answer to this fundamental question, or even of what I meant by the "paranormal."

Commentary of 16 May 2019

Writing some of my angel-dreams on Dream Enthusiasts has definitely helped me concentrate my attention on this one haunting question: Can actual angels visit me in my dreams? I am surprised that several dream enthusiasts seem to think that the answer to that question is, "Yes." One dream enthusiast even recalled experiencing "pure euphoria" during an encounter with angels in a dream. In my dream above, I did not experience pure euphoria, but at least the discovery of the angel-carvings seemed to stop the sound of the children's screaming for me. Some internet oneironauts almost seem angel-like to me, although I have some difficulty believing that internet oneironauts may be able to communicate - like angels may be able to do - "paranormally" with me in my dreams.

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