I remember my dreams. Every morning, I wake up laughing at the thought  of my boyfriend driving a tiny car or panicked that maybe dreaming I was late for work made it so. My dreams tend to reflect what’s going on in my life around me, boyfriend stress, work stress. With the onset of my gun hobby a few months back, it’s about time I’ve had a gun dream. And at the same time, when I woke up, I was thinking to myself “holy crap.” The dream started off with me driving down the road in my car. I must have put something on the roof of the car or forgot to shut the trunk because before long, I realized that I’d lost something. I circled back to find it and located it near the road.

I pulled off onto the spacious shoulder and got out of my vehicle. I remember being optimistic about losing the papers I’d lost. “I found them easily.” “I get to stretch my legs.” Thoughts such as those floated through my mind as I gathered up the things that I needed. Another vehicle signaled and turned off of the road and onto the shoulder behind my car. I could tell it was a lone female driver and  yet still I felt a small touch of alarm. The spidy sense within me said get back to your vehicle. I began moving that way quickly when a male driver pulled his vehicle off of the road to a stop in front of my car. Now I was boxed in. The cars’ occupants left their vehicles and advanced towards me. I was not going to make it to my vehicle in time. My heart was racing because I was boxed in, because these people didn’t seem to be harmless, because maybe I’d have to use my carry gun. But I was glad to have it with me. I woke up reaching for it.

Although it was only a dream, my blood was rushing in my ears.

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