[dream, morning of 09302008]
We were downstairs, a filthy empty floor in an abandoned warehouse or factory. We were warriors. I had a steel weapon, long and thin that waved like a whip. We saw our enemies--two of them, male--and we attacked. My companion had a long sword. I swung my whipblade and it cut into one of our enemies. At one point he blocked it and it reversed in my grip, came back and cut into my own hand, nearly severing three fingers. I finally decapitated one of them. After we had defeated both of them, I looked down at my hand. My wound was healing up rather nicely. My body's healing abilities were rapid.
We also had to avoid the michens, small insect-like creatures--almost mechanical--that crawled across the dingy underground floors. If they caught you, they put you into a state of suspension. You turn gray and become immobile. Like looking at a Gorgon/Medusa. We quickly stepped over them and left.
So the dream was much longer than that, but that's all I ended up remembering. When I woke up my hand was actually hurting like it was in the dream. I must've been sleeping on it funny or lost circulation or something. I'm sure that the whipblade in the dream was inspired by a tape measure which the kids and I played with the night before. Dreams = reality.
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