dream sequence – part 75


Another recurring theme in my dreams is the inability to find my car in a crowded parking lot. This has only happened a handful of times in real life, as suburban living usually allows for more reasonably sized parking lots, relegating that nightmare scenario to those dangerous treks into The Big City. I also have a tendency to try to park in the same spot, or to memorize some landmark to help me quickly locate my car. More recently, I started using the camera on my phone to photograph either an aisle number or some other marker to establish location.

In my dream, I wasn’t in one of those sprawling parking lots one would expect to see in an urban airport. I was at a shopping mall, visiting some large department store. While it wasn’t labelled, it could have been a Wal-Mart or similar franchise, featureless, ubiquitous and efficient.

Except that this store was nearly void of product. Nearly all of the shelves were empty. Even the walls lacked decoration or signage. There were plenty of people, however, all somewhat disoriented by the abundance of nothing.

Having wandered all the way to the back of the store without finding much of anything, I searched for the exit, which was at an entirely different corner of the store from the entrance. I crossed into the parking lot and began looking for my car.

In the dream, I had the car I currently have in real life: a green, 2008 Toyota RAV4. It differs from the newer models in that it has a distinctive rear-mounted spare tire, so I began looking for that. There were other green cars, and other RAV4s but none of them were mine. It was frustrating that I could be overlooking my car in such a modest-sized lot, and yet there I was.

I clicked my remote to unlock the car and heard a faint beeping sound. I must have walked right past it. As I got closer to where I thought I had heard the sound, I clicked again, but the sound was fainter. When I clicked the panic button, I heard nothing at all.

At that point, I was rescued by the alarm in my bedroom.

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