Dream of: 04 June2006 (2) "Exception To The Rule"
I was in the Gay Street House when my father walked in. He had sold the House, and he said we had to move everything out. I had stored stuff in the House, some of which was up in the attic. It was already 9 a.m. I told him I didn't know how in the world I could possibly get it out. Nevertheless, I started getting stuff ready. I obtained a large truck. I thought I would move the stuff down to the Third Street Apartment (where I had lived in Portsmouth in 1970 right after I had graduated from high school).
My sister showed up. She was helping a little bit.
In one room I had hung some paintings on the wall. One was long, almost like a mural - it reminded me of a mural. A bunch of square buildings were colorfully depicted.
Another painting looked like two paintings, but it was actually only one painting with Aztec designs.
My sister came in and said something about how she didn't like it when things were too cluttered. I did have quite a few possessions stored in this room, but I responded, "Generally that's true, but there are exceptions." I told her that this was an exception, that things were good in there. I thought about saying something about her being an exception to the rule, too. But I wasn't quite sure what rule she would be the exception to.
I began carrying stuff out to the truck and setting it down by the truck. I carried out some stereo equipment. I decided I would simply sell some of the stuff. I set up a table and piled some magazines on top. Some of the magazines were still in plastic cellophane. There were a bunch of comic books. A woman was helping me. I told her I was going to sell the magazines for 10 cents apiece. I had other stuff which I also intended to sell stacked on the table. I spread it out.
As I went through more of my possessions, I found a bunch of handguns and I realized the guns must belong to my father. Somehow they had gotten in one of my boxes up in the attic. I would have to take those back to him.
A policeman showed up and began looking at my stereo equipment and making notes. I thought he was looking for things which might be stolen. I didn't think anything there was stolen, but it rather worried me.
Suddenly I perceived that a Spanish woman had picked up one of my pieces of stereo equipment and she was walking away with it. I pointed her out to the cop and told him to arrest her. He ran over and grabbed her. When she started speaking Spanish, I felt somewhat sorry for her, but I couldn't tolerate her stealing my things.
Another woman had picked up a television, but she had set it back down. I was glad they didn't get away with anything, but since everything was sitting out in the open, I was sure people would end up stealing stuff.
I told my sister I was going to go get the truck. I didn't want to leave stuff sitting outside. So I went and got the truck. I was coming back down a country road out in the forest. I had to make a turn up ahead so I pulled off too the left. I started heading down a hill with a lake at the bottom. I couldn't stop the truck and I didn't even see where I could turn around. It looked as if I were going to run the truck right into the lake. I was going to try to avoid going into the lake, but obviously I was in a predicament. My truck would be stuck down there and I wouldn't be able to move everything on time like I was supposed to.
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