Out of the blue, there’s a flash of high-backed chairs covered with thick, embroidered cloth upholstery and big arms, surrounding tables in a restaurant.
The tables are covered with white linen cloths. And there are no tables in the center of this huge hall.
It’s the restaurant of a hotel. I came here from a spa. Did I lose my way? Or was I looking for someone? There are several exits from this dining room. One, to my left, as an observer of the scene, leads to the road. There are cars and cabs there. Maybe I’m thinking of taking one if I don’t find what or who I’m looking for. Another one towards me, leads into a courtyard and the one towards my right leads to the inside of the hotel. I think that’s where I entered from.
The room isn’t very bright. The walls are white. The lamps don’t seem to be switched on and it seems to be lit by natural light coming in from the windows.
I take a seat at one of the tables as I wait for I-don’t-know-what and I start talking to I-don’t-know-who but I must have met the person once or twice before, it appears.
I have a vague memory of the spa. I think I was there for a massage. I was wrapped in a white bathrobe.
I close my eyes and try to remember more, but in vain.
That’s all I’ve got for you. Are you disappointed? I know, so am I. It’s frustrating when I remember only snatches of scenes from my dreams. They can be so wonderfully intricate sometimes that I cannot even explain it. Sometimes I only remember one scene from a complex dream and it appears to be so out of place. I remembered this one not upon waking but just now, suddenly, almost 20 hours later. That’s the worst. That’s when it seems like the one scene I do remember must have been important, but without the other pieces to connect it with, it’s completely meaningless and out of context. I used to keep a dream journal by my bed at one point, when I was 16. Maybe I’ll try that again and you’ll read about it.