A Little Yellow Wagon
A dream visited me last night … I love to dream. My dreams provide another dimension to my life. They open the door that says “Do Not Enter.” They fill me with possibility and for a brief time take me away from this world I see in my waking hours. My dreams are often confusing and lack any real interpretation, but I have also had dreams of premonitions which later proved to be true. The world of my dreams is a world which is mine alone. No one else knows my dreams unless I choose to share them.
Last night in my dream I and two other dream mates were attempting to steal a yellow freight car from a train. Police and security guards were all over the freight yard but they did not see us. I do not know how but the freight car belonged to me and I was attempting to get it back. I have no idea what was in the car but only that it was a bright yellow and stood out from the other old and rusted cars.
My freight car was between other cars so we has to uncouple them. When the train started moving, my car remained still and we struggled to push it over onto a side track.
In the final, scene of the dream, I am walking down the street pulling a bright yellow wagon with the same markings as the freight car behind me, on my way home. Being pulled in the wagon sits Max, my dog of fourteen years, who died in 1986 and Fuzzie, my teddy bear of thirty-six years, whom I still have.