Dreamlog: 2015, June 28

Well then, as promised, here’s the next part of my post apocalyptic dream which appears to come to me in a “series” every other night. I’ve even had “reruns” of the dreams on occasion. And it creeps me out, because they feel so real. Feel free to click [here] to read what happened in my previous dream.

But enough bla-dee-bla. Here’s what happened in yet another lucid dream of mine the other night..

Giant Roasting Feast, Part 2

I find myself lying on this rugged couch in the living room of what appears to be my post-apocalyptic house. An aweful smell torments my nostrils and the room is spinning. I look to the side and notice the parrot-rabbit that I had seen in a previous dream. It is sitting on top of the Goblin King warrant on the coffee table and it was staring right at me.

“Feed me”. It says.

Slowly, I sit up on the couch. The parrot-rabbot screeches and jumps up, startled from my sudden movement.

Then I hear voices. They sound like they come from outside. The parrot-rabbit flies up as I get off the couch and walk towards the window. Down on the street I can see two men standing with their backs towards me. One is wearing a dark green hooded sweater with pants, the other a denim jacket and shorts. They are talking to one another.

“Have you heard?” asked the green sweater guy.

“What?” denim jacket guy asked.

“More people have vanished into thin air.” said green sweater guy.

“More people, you say?” asked denim jacket guy.

“Yep. The lady who lives near the well, nobody has seen or heard from her in days.” said green sweater guy.

“You mean Rosa? Oh no! I hope nothing happened to her.” denim jacket said.

“There are now eight people missing in total!” green sweater guy said.

“This isn’t exactly paradise. Maybe went looking for a better place.” denim jacket guy said.

“All of them?” green sweater guy said.

“I wouldn’t blame them.” denim jacket guy said.

“You know that Arabic family? Nobody has seen them for days either.” green sweater guy.

I gasped for air in shock when I overheard those last words. Did he just say that an Arabian family  went missing? Have they disappeared? Are they talking about old mister Mashhadi and his son Palavan? Maybe it’s nothing to worry about. And yet, I could not help but feel very worried for my Arabian neighbors. I swallowed the lump down my throat and decided to go to his house.

Before I had even taken a step towards the front door, the parrot-animal began to screech again. The animal flew towards me and landed on my head.

“Feed me! I’m hungry!” it spoke.

“Hey!” I yelp out and I shake my head so that the parrot-rabbit would fly off  my head again.

Screeching in discontent, the animal flies in circles above my head and finally lands on the couch. It tilts its little head and blinks with its eyes as it looks at me, letting out a sad small squeak. I couldn’t help but feel bad for the little critter and wondered if there was any food in my house at all.

“Calm down little one. I’ll see if I can get you something.” I say to the parrot-rabbit.

Meanwhile, a foul reeking smell was still stinking up the place. I wasn’t sure what to compare the smell with, it just smelled horrid.  And so I went searching through my post apocalyptic house for food to feed my parrot-rabbit.  And trying to discover where that stench was coming from.

After searching my little kitchen and the rest of the house, I came to realize one obvious fact: There was hardly anything edible in my post apocalyptic house. All I could find was a rock that might have been a cake once.  And some beef jerky.

As I walk into the living room with the beef jerky and the rock, I was greeted by the parrot-rabbit flying straight at me.

“Well flufball, here’s all I got.” I said.

The parrot-rabbit landed in front of me on the floor and stood tall on its hind legs. I tried to break the cake, but this seemed an impossible trick to do with my bare hands. Maybe I should boil some water? But before I could turn around to go back to kitchen, the parrot-rabbit jumped up and pulled the beef jerky right out of my hand.

“Hmm, flufball likes beef jerky!” the parrot-rabbit purred as it nibbled away on the beef jerky.

Who would’ve guessed that a parrot-rabbit would enjoy beef jerky? I shudder at the thought of what might happen if I ran out of beef jerky. Maybe I should go out and find more edibles, to prevent waking up next time and having the parrot-rabbit nibble away on my face!

Then I recalled the conversation between the two men outside. There was something else I still had to do: Find out if my Arabic neighbors were alright. I squatted down to place the rock cake on the floor for the parrot-rabbit and patted the animal on its little head.

“Enjoy! See you in a bit, ok?” I said.

Moments later I was standing in front of the door of my Arabic neighbors.  I noticed that the aweful smell was even stronger here. This wasn’t a good sign, I figured. After knocking at the door a few times without a response, I felt even more worried. Carefully walked towards the window to have a peak inside.

And then, I woke up…

Enjoyed readig this dreamlog so far? Feel free to check out my previous dreamlogs! Want to read what happens next in this particulair dream? Then subscribe to my spamminglist.

Thank you for lurking

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