Somehow, we were living back in
Seattle. I was peering into the garage
of
the house next door, when who should pass by to ask me
what the hell
I was up to, but my
ex-husband. I pointed out that one of the cars had
its lights on, and there was
something funny about the second car.
Next thing I knew, he was inside that car, and the car was filling
up with water. I rescued him from drowning, and somehow the whole
business of the water was due to a pre-teen who lived next door.
I had never been able to figure out whose child this was, and I asked
whether my ex was his father. He said no in an irritated tone.
A woman was walking away from where we stood, and I asked whether she was
the boy's mother. He said yes. Later, after I woke, I realized that
the woman walking away was me.
Somehow, the living room of the house next door opened directly onto
the driveway, and I could see inside. There, next to a grand piano,
was the woman next door: a very intense woman, all of three feet tall,
with short straight blonde hair. My younger sister and her three children
were lying on a sheet on the floor. They were paralyzed, their pupils
were dilated, and they were staring and unresponsive. "What did you
do to them?" I demanded. She said, "I had to stop them from interfering."
One odd thing about my sister and her kids was that they
had somehow shrunk to two feet high, and they looked
kinda like those funny nesting Russian dolls.
I asked her what drug she'd given them, but she and the boy quickly left.
I shouted to her that I was calling the police. When I picked up the
phone, there was no dial tone. I was going to get my cell phone, but remembered that (in reality) the thing needed to be recharged, but
the impulse to go get the phone woke me.
I would really like to know what this is all about.