Dream of: 30 December 2011 "Squatters"

I had bought a fairly modern house which needed work done on it. My handyman George and I were in the basement, examining the electrical and plumbing systems which were going to need to be replaced. I was trying to determine exactly what I needed to do. George had already started working on the electrical system and he had a bunch of copper wires running out of the fuse box. When I saw that the wires seemed to be touching each other, I asked him if it was dangerous for the wires to touch. Apparently they were only ground wires and it didn't matter if they touched. However, they still looked dangerous to me. 

I crawled back in a crawl space under the house. I was surprised to come upon a patch of green grass. I crawled on until I came out in an area where I was actually able to stand up. I appeared to have stumbled upon a small room under the house. I hollered to George, but I appeared to have lost him. I walked across the room, opened a door and walked through door into another room. I was surprised that I could see some people at the far end of the room. Amazed, I didn't know what I had found.

A family was sitting around a table. When they saw me, the stout black- haired man at the table jumped up and ran into the next room. I followed him. I watched as the man (around 40 years old) managed to climb through a hole in the ceiling. Standing up above me in an apparent attic, he pulled out a gun and pointed it at me. I blurted, "I'm the owner."

He put down the gun and climbed back down to where I was. I started talking to him and I realized I was in a section of the house which I hadn't even known existed. I also realized that these people were squatters who were living there in the house. I asked the man if he had been paying rent or simply living there without paying. He admitted that they were just living there. As we talked, I learned that they had been living there for a couple years. Not only had the house been empty, but this section was isolated from the rest of the house, so nobody knew they were living there. They had simply moved in.

The man was friendly. We walked around and he showed me the area, which was quite a large section of the house. When we walked outside, I realized that the outside door was off to the side of the house. When I had bought the house, I simply hadn't seen this section.

We walked around for a bit outside. Clearly the house was located in a modern affluent area. I asked the man if he wanted to continue living in the house and to pay rent. By now, the man's wife was also walking with us. She was also friendly and also around 40 years old. They both seemed to think that living in the house and paying rent was a wonderful idea. I told them that I wasn't sure yet and that I was just thinking out loud. Their continuing to live in the house was only a possibility.

To myself I was thinking about how much I could charge for rent. If the people lived there, I would have income while I was fixing up the house and preparing it for sale. I figured I could probably charge about $500 a month for rent. I had intended to sell the house, but I began to think that I might be better off to simply rent the house. I might be able to charge an additional $1,000 for rent for the main section of the house.

Back inside the house, we were in a large room where I saw a boy who was apparently the son of the man. The floor was made of beautiful hardwood and the boy had a little sander. He turned on the sander and it started to automatically move across the floor. I told him to stop because I wasn't sure yet that I wanted to sand the floors in the house. If we sanded one section of the house, I would probably have to sand the entire house. The boy, however, did not stop the sander and by itself if traveled across the room, turned around on the other side and headed back.

I crouched down on my hands and knees and rubbed the floor where the sander had passed. I could clearly feel the difference the sander had made. I thought I might now have to sand the entire house. Finally the boy stopped the sander.

Then entered a black-haired Latino-looking fellow (around 20 years old). He stood right in front of me and even touched my chest in a somewhat threatening way. He was about fifteen centimeters taller than I. Finally he stepped back. It turned out that he was also a son of the man, but he lived somewhere outside and not inside the house. He definitely wasn't friendly.

Dream Epics Home Page

Copyright 2012 by luciddreamer2k@gmail.com