Last night was a very active one for dreams.
The Torah Depository
I’m with Chris and a group of friends. We’re walking along a city street, I think we’re in New York. I see an old building with really strange window coverings – they’re like a cross between awnings and shutters, hinged at the top of the windows so that they cover the whole glass window. They look like they’re made out of some sort of red reed, or wood slats. They are all slightly raised, so that you can see into the building a little.
I recognize the building from an article or show. It’s an old Torah depository – where they would take old Torahs that were no longer useful, so that they could be stored respectfully. I look through the glass front door, and there are stacks of stuff and some furniture – it looks like an antique store. There’s someone moving around inside, and I realize that it’s open, and we can go in and shop – it’s been turned into a little store. There is only one person inside, and it doesn’t seem very organized – nothing is priced, and everything is strewn kind of haphazardly around. I’m talking with a friend of mine about how the place used to work – there is a large slot like a mail slot on the back wall, where people would push the Torahs through.
The strange shutters made the building look boarded up, which kept it from arousing suspicion; most people had no idea what it was. We’re looking at the shutters, and the roof is also glass; one of my friends says that he would have rather had a more solid building, something out of stone or brick. The shopkeeper is apparently interested in raising funds to turn it into some sort of museum; that’s why they’re selling stuff. I look at several things; I want a souvenir to take home. I look at some pieces of ornamental wrought and cast iron work; one looks like a little boy sprouting from a piece of foliate work, going downward to three legs; it’s like an ornamental piece from a fence or something. Then I find some baskets of smaller things – more in my price range. I end up selecting a tiny frog – about the size of a pinto bean – it’s made of silver wire.
I don’t remember paying, but it seems that I did. We’re walking out to the car; one of my friends has bought one of those tiny pocket lasers, and she is saying that she will flash it on the sky like the Bat Signal from BatMan, and we laugh at her, because it doesn’t seem like it would work – but then she points it up at the clouds, and it makes a little red light.
As we’re walking out to our cars, I bump into a black man who is walking in a group beside ours; I apologize, and I notice that when we bumped into each other, my little frog caught on some piece of his clothing, and pulled something off; I pick them up, the frog and this piece of jewelry – it takes a minute to realize that it’s an earring. It’s orange like amber, and an odd shape, like the brake on a roller skate. I give it back to him, and we each get in our cars to leave.