Stepping into my Dreams is an Adventure into the World of the Unusual

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I’m sure some of you are like this too. Unreality is really the only way I can describe it. I’ve been keeping a dream journal for years and the first thing I do when I get up is write down my dream. Of course, sometimes my husband starts talking and most of the time the dream flies out of my head, but not always. If it’s weird, it stays with me, and he knows when he sees me scribbling in my notebook that I’m recording my dream. I’m sure he thinks this is an odd practice, but I could write a whole book on dreams.


Just last night, I dreamed I was in a town and the letter “K” was missing from everything there. There weren’t any on the street signs, or the license plates, or the stores. This was driving me crazy and when I asked where they were, no one was alarmed at all. They all thought this was perfectly normal.

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My dream flashed to the middle of the night and we were asleep when there was a pounding on the door. The pounding would not stop, so my husband got up to answer it. In walked a group of people who were partying and celebrating “K” day. They sat on the edge of the bed and told us all about it. When they finally left, it was almost dawn and we decided we should go and do that to them in the middle of the night, but we never did.

When we went to town later that morning, there had been a strong wind or perhaps a small tornado during the night. There was debris everywhere. Shingles had flown off some roofs and some were inside the stores along with dirt, pieces of brush, crumpled paper, and other debris.

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I helped a little, old gray-haired lady sweep up her shop, which was full of various figurines. There were many cats sitting around on throw rugs that lay rumpled up because of the storm.

Then I was riding in the back of a pick up truck going to a funeral in the same town. I could smell strong exhaust fumes back there. I was hollering, “Please somebody, just tell me why all the “K’s” are missing before I die.”

It was then that my husband woke me up. He said he couldn’t find his cell phone, which ended up being in the pocket of his pants in the closet.

You can see how a writer would find a missing “K” a problem. I’ve had dreams weirder than this, but this is a good example. How about you? Do you have any weird ones to share?