crackerwax

So, there I was, relaxing and having a bit of an afternoon snooze when I was rudely awoken by my phone going off.

By golly I’m glad it did though, it enabled me to remember what is quite possibly the best dream I’ve had since the one where I leapt onto a double decker bus to escape a Predator that was chasing me down Oxford Street.

The dream only lasted about ten minutes, but in that ten minutes I managed to really feel fear, proper I’m going to die style fear. It was awesome.

I was hiding out in a house, a small house, the sort you’d see in American movies set in the mid-west. It was all one floor and the rooms all joined on to each other so it formed a sort of four room circle. I was in the front corner of the house to the left of the front door and I was peering through the blinds.

From my vantage point I could see a Terminator standing on a big metal shipping container, the type the ship cars and things in. This Terminator was a T888 like in the TV series, it had its back to me and was slowly scanning the horizon.

My immediate assumption was that it was looking for me, so I carefully and quietly crept out of the house by the side door and, ducking down, ran through more of the shipping crates. At one point I was passed by a police cruiser, what it was doing I wasn’t sure but my only focus was on escape from the Terminator that I was convinced had been sent to kill me.

So after a short crouching jog I came across a rather old, dark blue pick up truck. I quietly opened, what should have been the passenger side door, and climbed in. Even though I was convinced I was in America the truck was right hand drive. There were no keys in the ignition, so after pulling down the sun visor and discovering there weren’t any there either I resigned myself to going back to the house, talking my chances with the Terminator and looking for some car keys.

At that point I woke up. My heart was racing and I thought that the whole thing had been real, it took a good five minutes for me to relax.

This raises some questions though.

1. What were all the shipping crates doing surrounding a lovely little bungalow/house thing? Could mean a lot of things that one.
2. Was the Terminator actually after me? Could it have been protecting me? Does this suggest or signify that I’m unjustly suspicious of those that care about me, or that they’ve turned their back on me?
3. What significance does the passing police car have? Do I feel that those that should help me are unwilling to or can’t anymore?
4. Why was the truck right hand drive, even though everything else was obviously American? Am I the odd one out?
5. Why was the Terminator a T888, which isn’t the traditional and more obvious T800 Arnie-looking Terminator? Is the fact that the T888 series have never been the good guys significant?

It was all very strange and I can’t help but think there’s more to this than meets the eye! All thoughts on a post card to the usual address.