I showed my mom my ability to fly, carrying Arzoo Nasarabadi down the street past her. I thought I was going crazy because my family wasn’t acknowledging what they were seeing but my mom finally broke down and told me that my ability was genetic and inherited from my biological father. She tasked me to fly the world and find him. I doubted it would be simple and had no leads on his whereabouts but she informed me that a very very small percentage of Jewish males carry the gene, so few that most of the world is unaware that anyone can fly. She told me the JFK assassination was a flyby and that my father was likely the last person on earth who had manifested the ability. I started to tell her about one other person but remembered that he was my clone, and decided not to get into it. I took off from the lawn of our house in Cleveland with no idea where to start my search.
Dane and I retreat via dune buggy to a sort of beach cabin in the desert, it is near an isolated village. There are roving gangs of police across the desert in some foothills who have some genocidal vendetta against dark featured gypsy folk who live between the village and the foothills. One day me and my friend are in town watching a pack of llamas stampeding on the outskirts when one breaks from the herd onto the main drag. It is a ways off but as it frantically gallops into town we notice it has a white billowing mass on its back. Below us on the street, the llama is about to pass us when a deer/antelope creature bolts into view from an adjacent rooftop and plows sleeping into the llama which goes flying into a wall with a crunch. The white mass gets thrown off and becomes two, skidding 20 feet straight down the street. Unhuddled, we see it is two people; an older man who had been protectively pressing a small girl to his chest and curling up to conceal her, bundled in white robes with black floral embroidery. It ended up they were fleeing a raid if the foothills cops. We didn’t want to get involved with the brutes but knew they would be turning towards our village in pursuit of the man and child so we knew we didn’t have much choice to hide them. We found a flimsy but convincing looking fake folding wall, like a stucco French door and hid them behind it in a corner which then looked a protruding part of the architecture while we looked for better hiding spots. Later, somehow the man was gone and I found a hiding place for the girl in a hollowed out room in a wall from a previous dream. I was looking for a painting to put over the hole when she shows up next to me wearing khaki shorts and a One of my button downs. She has pulled her hair back and explains that she feels safer hiding in plain sight, saying that despite our age difference we will be her fake BF to complete the farce. We are sitting on a bench chatting when a fat police scout appears. He suspects something is amiss (we are playing it too cool) and begins harassing the girl to get a rise out of me, see what he can glean about our relationship. He sits on her lap and starts touching her hair and face. My chest gets puffy and I stand up, enraged.
Nemesis with vast cabal of mercinaries. I get shot 7 times in the left side over the course of the dream, ambushed in a car/car lot, hospital, warehouse/refugee gymnasium, in redwoods. He is always several steps ahead. When help arrives its always his people in disguise. I know he cant kill me cause its my dream so I am baffled and panicky every time I am shot. A lot of the shots are in my left pec and shoulder, everywhere but my heart. They don’t seem to slow me down much, lung still seems to work. He seems more in control of my dream than me which is super frustrating since I am largely aware I am dreaming.
There are vaulted ceilings but ceilings nevertheless. Thusly, dream logic favors superboys leaping over typical dream flight.
On a mission with Malcolm and peeps, he’s recruiting and I volunteered quickly. In a mountaintop school/missionary type place we are trying to recruit. I’m in disguise. When its time to leave mal gives a speech and invites recruits to join in a hot air balloon. Its first come first serve and the rest will have to carpool. I hold back unsure if I’m welcome on the balloon. He mentions crucial elements and how they should board first, he motions me and I feel respected and step towards the balloon.