Lottery Dream
I had another strange dream last night. I dreamt that I was walking through a shanty-town in a large city during the Great Depression. I knew that they only way to get out of this life was to win it big in the lottery (Yes, I know. No lotteries back then, but it’s a dream dammit.) I tried buying lottery tickets with my last three dollars, but all of the shops were “sold out.” I’m not sure how you sell out of lottery tickets, but that was the case.
I ended up finding a scalper on the street selling lottery tickets. I managed to buy two tickets for my three dollars. As soon as he handed me the ticket, he ran off through a doorway. About a dozen London police (You know the ones with the tall hats, billy clubs, and loud whistles) stormed out of surrounding buildings, threw me to the ground, hand-cuffed me, and led me off to jail. They wouldn’t tell me why they had arrested me. They just kept telling me, “You know what you did!” It reminded me of my mom, actually. She would use that line quite a bit when she thought I had done something wrong. She was usually right, so I took the punishment. However, in this case, I wasn’t sure why I was being arrested.
The police hauled me out of the shanty-town, and threw me in a jail that was entirely made of ice. The walls, benches, toilet, and bars were entirely ice. It was very strange. I ended up sitting there for what felt like hours. They finally released me from jail telling me that it had all been a mistake. They apologized for what they had done, gave me my lottery tickets back, and set me free.
I started walking from my ice prison back to my home in the shanty-town, and that’s about the time that I woke up.
