Have you ever had dreams which are connected like episodes in a mini-series?
Yesterday, during my afternoon nap, I dreamed of myself being kidnapped in a shopping mall. Turned out my takers were a crime syndicate which kidnap women and sell them for prostitution. I wasn’t cross-dressing in the dream, nor do I have any secret desire to do so in real life, if that’s what you’re thinking. The reason for my involvement was not explained at all. In fact, by the time of writing, these are all I remember about the dream.
The story continued during my slumber last night. This time, me and another male captive managed to escape. How we did this was forgotten, but eventually we were rescued by a police squad conducting a massive raid on the kidnappers’ HQ. Next thing I knew, I was in the police van with several officers. The higher-ranking one, a petit woman resembling a particularly sinister-looking person I knew in university, aroused suspicion about her real identity by mispronouncing “prostitute”. We were then taken back to the same mall to “reconstruct” our capture. Suddenly my “co-captive” pushed me to the floor, saying he saw someone’s head shot to pieces by sniper fire. We hid behind the sofa of a Pacific Coffee outlet, when a not-so-bright waitress came and asked if we want anything. With great exasperation, we convinced her to leave us alone before her action exposes us. Then we moved behind a folding screen. The screen had little square holes on it, so it wasn’t the perfect concealment. Hearing ominous footsteps of someone approaching, I peeked out of the small holes, and the dream ended in a cliffhanger.
It was as intense as watching an episode of 24, and was probably why I woke up this morning with a splitting headache.