Tag Archives: dream

2703. Hounded by a goblin

I was being chased down our long driveway by a goblin. It had a big nose and pointy ears. When it ran, its knees pumped up past the height of its ears. It was really fast. It caught me.

I was taken to its truck. I was put in a box on the back of the truck. It was very dark. However, I was prepared. The minute, the very second, it opened the box I would pull the trigger of my gun and shoot the goblin dead. I waited. I had to be quick.

Soon the lid of the box lifted. I pointed the gun and pulled the trigger. And that’s why there’s a bullet hole in the ceiling of my bedroom.

2635. Felicitous dream

Felicity explained to her friends at school how she had a dream. She dreamt that she went to the local hotel and blocked all the doors and windows so that no one could get in and no one could get out.

Then she went home and went to bed and her father appeared in a dream and said “Felicity, unblock the blocked doors and windows of the hotel so that everyone can go in and out once again.” And Felicity said “Thanks Dad” and went and unblocked the hotel.

After she had unblocked the hotel she went home and went to bed and dreamed that everyone who had been blocked at the hotel came and thanked her for unblocking the hotel and some of them even gave her presents. One person gave her money and said, “That is for unblocking the hotel because I needed to catch the bus.”

So she had had a dream on top of a dream on top of a dream. She dreamt that she dreamed that she dreamed that she dreamed.

As Japonica, Felicity’s friend said: “It must have felt very unreal.”

2506. Cable car adventure

Sometimes a dream produces enough to warrant a daily story. Such is the case today. My dream was exciting, logical, and with a satisfying conclusion.

I was in a crowded cable car with my friend, Jayden. I don’t know which readers live in places with cable cars, or even if they call them that. They are sort of like a tram with the car going down the steep hill pulling, via cables, the car on the rails going up the hill.

In my dream the hill was high and steep. The view was panoramic. The vegetation was lush; the fjord cliffs were high and precipitous. We were almost at the station where we were to alight. Suddenly the cable car stopped. It then began, at first slowly, to go backwards down the track. It gathered speed. We were shooting backwards down the mountain at a terrific speed. Miraculously we reached the bottom and on the flat land the car came to a halt.

The cable car driver got out and had a look around. He then returned to the cable car and came down the back where Jayden and I were sitting. He handed Jayden a towel and asked if he would mind going out and wiping the mud off the tracks.

So Jayden went out, and while he was wiping the mud off the tracks the cable car driver gave me a haircut.

1920. The fulfilment of a dream

Willoughby was getting on in life. He was in his seventy-fourth year. He had led an interesting enough life; fairly bland, but with the occasion moment of excitement. He dreamt of having his life over and doing things better the second time around.

He would like to take an old building – such as a barn or a rundown church or even a small factory – and turn it into a lovely home. He’d seen people doing that on television. Of course he would need plenty of money because he would work on his renovation and building preservation every day; all day if he had half a chance.

And when the house was finished he would start on the garden. Perhaps a small lake. Certainly at least a fish pond. And he would keep chickens, not for eggs but for an interest. If he bred rare varieties of fowl he could enter competitions with his perfect poultry at various fairs.

Naturally there would be an extensive orchard. Not only would it supply fresh fruit in season, but he could make and freeze fruit pies for the cold winter months, as well as canning fruit and creating tasty pickles and chutneys. In fact, in his renovated dwelling he had a special room for storing all these preserves.

There would be ambient lighting in the garden, and a large patio for barbeques. And a triple garage – one for his regular car, one for his pick-up truck (how else could he gather firewood off his ten acre woodland?), and a third garage for his classic 1930’s car. There was a workshop as well; quite large, where he could potter away with wood. With a lathe he could turn wooden bowls. Oh! and a potter’s wheel and kiln!

God heard Willoughby’s earnest desire. He was granted a second life; a reincarnation. He was rich. He had everything he ever dreamed of. He hated it.

1693. Huberta and Hubert

As if having the name of Huberta wasn’t bad enough… She’d gone and fallen in love with a man whose name was Hubert. “Huberta and Hubert” sounded doubly bad. “You are cordially invited to the wedding of Huberta and Hubert”. And so on.

Huberta practiced writing out the combination in all sorts of situations. Mind you, she simply scribbled it in the back of a notebook. “Huberta and Hubert announce the birth of their first child”; “Huberta and Hubert are booked on a Mediterranean cruise”; “Huberta and Hubert celebrate their golden wedding anniversary.”

Huberta suddenly snapped out of her reverie when the bell rang. That was the end of Mathematics class.

Oh if only Hubert would notice her and ask her out!

617. Saving the duckling

© Bruce Goodman 19 June 2015


What an extraordinary dream I had last night. This duck – it was a quack-quack duck – it was all white. It had these little ducklings. About six of them. It took them underneath the house. They were little yellow ducklings. And then the cat followed them under the house.

I had to save the little ducklings from the cat, so I crawled underneath the house.

Then the cat caught one of the little ducklings and I tried to steal it back from the cat to save the duckling. But the mother duck was all protective and thought it was me that was attacking her baby. I had to grab the duck around the neck to save myself, because she’d turned into a great big ferocious mallard duck and she was pecking me to bits. I grabbed her neck and strangled it. I had to. I had to do that to save myself. The mother duck kept smashing me with her wings. Smashing me. Smashing me. And the more she smashed the tighter I squeezed her neck. Until she was dead.

And this morning when I woke up I found I’d strangled my wife.

171. Dream world


David was having vivid dreams. The dreams were so real that several days after, he would sometimes wonder if in fact things hadn’t happened for real.

They weren’t the sort of magnificent dreams we might like to have, such as winning a car in a raffle or doing something unmentionable with someone unbelievably gorgeous. They were ordinary dreams, such as visiting a friend or going fishing in a little boat.

When his sister invited him to her birthday party, David said he’d be delighted to come. Then, after a few days he wondered if the invitation was for real. Had he perhaps dreamed the invitation up? Was there really going to be a birthday party? He phoned her to make sure.

“It’s me, David,” he said.

“Hi!” she said.

“This might sound a bit silly, but I’m just phoning to verify: are you having a birthday party? And am I invited?”

“Of course I’m having a party!” she said. “And, yes, of course you’re invited.”

“Thank goodness for that!” said David. “I thought I was dreaming.”

On the day, David turned up in party mode.

“Where’s the party?” he asked his sister.

“What party?” she said.

“You said you were having a party. I phoned you about it.”

“You never phoned me about anything,” she said.