26/06/2012
Last night’s dream was quite interesting.
I was in a house on a hill (there were terraces).There was a train station at the top of the hill. I was walking down the hill, possibly from the station to the bottom of the hill. As I passed by one of the shops in the terrace I see smoke drifting inside. I help to raise the alarm and rescue the people inside, though it is ONLY smoke – there’s no fire. I’m not even sure where the smoke was coming from. It was a music shop though and had a mystical feel about it. The smoke eventually clears and everyone is safe.
I carry on down the hill to the beach on the coast. There is another house, this one a large dilapidated Victorian mansion type. It is apparently my ‘family inheritance’. The family used to own a lot of the land around but now it is mainly a tiny strip of dirty muddy beach and the strip along the estuary and some rough scrubby woodland behind the mansion on the hilly bits. There are foxgloves in the wood. Someone (an elderly lady) wants to pick them for a grave (probably the person I inherited the place from). I offer to get them for her since she is obviously too frail to be climbing hills with uneven and slippery footing. It turns out that the ‘crown’ commandeered all of the good land that the estate once owned for a national park typed thing (since it was an area of natural beauty and had a lovely sandy coastal beach as well as other habitats. (it would be so much better in a story if it was commandeered for a war effort of some secret nature and /then/ turned into a national park – part of the story could be the struggle to get the land back!) – Oooh…this could tie in with my Victorian twins story possibly…
Note to self: work it into the story. With a shoehorn if necessary.