Dream Log #929

Ran out of dream suppressants again, and was treated to the following…

I’m walking uphill through a tunnel made for automobiles. It’s dim, but not terribly dark. The ground is made of brick; the walls of stone. Behind me I suddenly hear a car coming, or rather a truck. The noise echoes against the stones, and beyond the natural increase in volume that would come from a vehicle closing in on someone, there is the added effect, in the rough and violent sound of the engine, of rapid and deliberate acceleration. I realize that I’m being targeted by whoever is approaching me from behind, and I instinctively break out into a sprint without looking back, ducking into a doorway I come across, which leads me mysteriously into my childhood bedroom.

All of my old things are there, but they’re just shapes, as it’s dark. I walk slowly, as though submerged in water, to my old bedroom window, and peer out at the familiar scene of my old neighborhood street corner, illuminated by that single hanging city light, and I slowly begin to grow afraid. I can see a boy standing under it, facing down the street that runs perpendicular to my own, at something I can’t see because my neighbors house is blocking the view. His face is much too far away to read, but his posture suggests that it’s a friend, or a sibling, that he’s waiting on to catch up with him…but suddenly, far off in the distance, there is the menacing sound of a truck’s engine, and a mangled thudding noise, and the boy immediately running in the direction he’s looking, his silhouette suddenly illuminated by growing high-beams. He disappears out of sight behind my neighbors house, after making a sudden desperate attempt to change course and get out of the street. I wonder if it is too late. I wake up.