A Nightmare

It’s been a long time since I had a scary dream, but the one I had last night was a doozy. It started out innocently enough. I was on the periphery of a down-and-out group meeting in the ballroom of an abandoned hotel. I wandered into another room and there was my dad sitting in an armchair. He waved at me, and I waved back.
It was night and we were really high up. (Now that I think about it, it was more like being in a space ship). There was a sudden flash of light and floating cities appeared outside the window. I went back into the ballroom and everyone looked considerably better. I started flying around above the crowd and felt great. But as soon as I started thinking about how wonderful it was to be flying, I plummeted right down to the floor.
Next thing I knew, I was tied to a bed and a man was eating my brain out with a spoon. Sounds funny, I know, but I can’t put in words just how terrifying it was. I actually started yelling and scared the daylights out of John. Because I was afraid to go back to sleep, I was a wreck this morning.
Years ago I used to teach a dream workshop at Sheridan, but I’ve never been any good at analyzing my own. I wonder what this one meant? Then again, maybe it didn’t mean anything. Maybe it was just feedback from that olive and cream cheese sandwich I ate right before I went to bed.