The part I do remember. I was with two, three or four other people – a small group. We were in an old abandoned building, in a specific dustry room, an area where I had been before. Specifically, I thought I was there in the dream at a much earlier time, possibly months and years. I saw beams of light in the darkness as we searched but I held no flashlights in my hands.
When I say I was there earlier, I remember feeling in the dream that I remember being “here earlier in the dream”, meaning I thought I might be dreaming then while with this group and that I thought I had dreamt about this same place earlier in the night. So I’m not really sure if I had dreamt about it earlier or not. I recall that in the dream I had memories of what the space looked like before and what I did there, much more distinct memories than what I describe below.
Anyway, what I was there to do now with the group, was to scavenge whatever was useful, valuable, or even sentimental. The other people in the group were like workers, contractors just doing a job. They were recovering old equipment and materials. I seemed to be more personally invested although as I was rummaging through the dark in the rubble, in my head I was thinking that there is nothing left here, everything is long gone, long used up, long abandoned.
I heard the others rummaging too, moving heavy things around, knocking other things over. The “boss” of the team, just a man bigger in size than everyone else but faceless because I never saw his face, moved some junk in a burnt out closet looking thing beside me. Not sure I say he was the boss I think he just exuded a quiet fearlessness. He bent over to pick up an old DeWalt-looking charger and a random loose charging cable. He dropped his hard hat in the process. He looked over the charger and cable, tossed the cable back without a glance and bent over ain to pick his hat back up, replacing it on his head.
Then he walked away and at that moment when I looked back into the “closet” I had a flashback to a memory of the gold intricately patterned (paisley?) wallpaper that used to be on the wall next to this closet, bathed in a warm light from a nearby lamp or from the room light, suggestions of other “scenes”, other times had in this space.
If I had to describe the feeling I had, it was like fondly remembering the Moulin Rouge via that Baz Lurman movie but not having any historical basis in my head at all, so I knew very well that these so-called memories were a completely constructed fantasy but the time and place were “real”.
The dream was cut short somewhere around here. We woke up to the dogs barking at the roofers’ boots pounding our ceilings this morning.