These two dreams occurred on sequential nights when I was staying at my dad's house.
Ice hockey match
In this dream there are huge fruit jellies playing an ice hockey match. They look like comical mascots but are distinctly recognisable as to which fruits they are. They have humanoid arms and legs and wear jerseys like normal ice hockey players.
I am the referee and feel rather amused by the sight of a giant lemon chasing the puck... I blow the whistle and at that moment feel a wave of dread wash over me. I look at the clock and it says 0.03 - three seconds left on the clock. The fruits also look up and see that they were robbed of 3 seconds. They start to argue with each other and soon they are in a giant brawl.
There is a live replay like those point contests in tennis matches. The camera zooms into a solitary brown figure at the edge of the rink, away from where the lemon was chasing the puck. He surreptitiously takes out a whistle and blows it... so I didn't blow the whistle at all?
I realise that it is a chestnut that has blown the whistle.. but chestnuts are not fruit?
Then I wake up.
An awful slice of watermelon
In this dream I am at a house I do not recognise and there are a bunch of teenagers inside having a party. The normal party vibe is there - loud awful music, lots of drinks and high pitched laughter drifting across the lawn. I see my mother there as a 15 year old and wonder how the roles could have changed.
Something goes wrong, but I'm not sure what it is. The police are called and they arrive in several police cars. I think to myself that they would never understand I was a parent - how could I be old enough to be a parent to a teenager? But obviously I am, and they don't bat an eyelid. The officers run inside to the house to interrogate the kids, and I retreat into a garage on the side.
I open the door and step into the cool abyss. It is totally dark until I switch on the light, and it looks exactly like my office in Hurtsville Private. There is an air conditioning unit on my left, a large desk taking up the far wall with a laptop, a document tray and a telephone - very nondescript, an armchair on the right and utterly nothing on the walls. It is as sanitary as a jail cell.
But there is one difference. On the table is a big white bowl, in which there is one single slice of watermelon. Upon closer inspection it looks deeply red, as if it has been injected with something. I take the piece of watermelon out and it feels heavy in my hand. I bite into it and it floods my mouth with the taste of something wrong.
Then I wake up
Ice hockey match
In this dream there are huge fruit jellies playing an ice hockey match. They look like comical mascots but are distinctly recognisable as to which fruits they are. They have humanoid arms and legs and wear jerseys like normal ice hockey players.
I am the referee and feel rather amused by the sight of a giant lemon chasing the puck... I blow the whistle and at that moment feel a wave of dread wash over me. I look at the clock and it says 0.03 - three seconds left on the clock. The fruits also look up and see that they were robbed of 3 seconds. They start to argue with each other and soon they are in a giant brawl.
There is a live replay like those point contests in tennis matches. The camera zooms into a solitary brown figure at the edge of the rink, away from where the lemon was chasing the puck. He surreptitiously takes out a whistle and blows it... so I didn't blow the whistle at all?
I realise that it is a chestnut that has blown the whistle.. but chestnuts are not fruit?
Then I wake up.
An awful slice of watermelon
In this dream I am at a house I do not recognise and there are a bunch of teenagers inside having a party. The normal party vibe is there - loud awful music, lots of drinks and high pitched laughter drifting across the lawn. I see my mother there as a 15 year old and wonder how the roles could have changed.
Something goes wrong, but I'm not sure what it is. The police are called and they arrive in several police cars. I think to myself that they would never understand I was a parent - how could I be old enough to be a parent to a teenager? But obviously I am, and they don't bat an eyelid. The officers run inside to the house to interrogate the kids, and I retreat into a garage on the side.
I open the door and step into the cool abyss. It is totally dark until I switch on the light, and it looks exactly like my office in Hurtsville Private. There is an air conditioning unit on my left, a large desk taking up the far wall with a laptop, a document tray and a telephone - very nondescript, an armchair on the right and utterly nothing on the walls. It is as sanitary as a jail cell.
But there is one difference. On the table is a big white bowl, in which there is one single slice of watermelon. Upon closer inspection it looks deeply red, as if it has been injected with something. I take the piece of watermelon out and it feels heavy in my hand. I bite into it and it floods my mouth with the taste of something wrong.
Then I wake up
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