Dream 20040224, 7:00 AM:
Chris and I are driving in a car; it seems like we’re leaving somewhere, or escaping something, but I don’t remember what. There is something in the dream about us going to a white light outside a WalMart; it seems like an instruction that we’re not comfortable with, like someone has told us to do this and it might be a trap. As we drive along through semi-developed roads, we can see the white light in the far distance; it is blindingly bright, like a magnesium flare. When we cross a side street such that we would have a view straight toward it, it is a blinding flash. We talk about it, and decide that going to the white light is probably not a very smart idea, so we avoid turning toward it. It’s still there, though, casting stark shadows on everything and making the angles of light all wrong.
We come to a Sizzler steakhouse, near the edge of town, with a small motel beside it. We decide to stop there for the night, as it is late and we are tired. I make some semi-disparaging comment about the Sizzler, along the lines of, “Well, it’s just a Sizzler, but I guess it’ll do.” We get out of the car, which is packed to the gills with lots of stuff, and check to make sure the doors are all locked before walking across the parking lot.
It seems that we don’t walk directly into any building, but instead amble a little. We walk through an open area where a woman is set up as if she’s going to auction a bunch of small clusters of antiques or collectible type stuff. It’s all small, spread out on table tops. I see a bunch of different kinds of bottles; one that I remember has a black case like the kind they put musical instruments or binoculars in. Someone is handling another similar bottle, but that one has a chrome surface as well; one person remarks to another that they are getting the sparkly stuff on their hands from the bottle.
The woman at the front starts going, talking without amplification to the group in the semi-room; there are probably a dozen or so people all together, just kind of hanging out. There is a sound-shell behind her, and some of the people are in seats, but it’s outdoors. It reminds me of a small building, only without the walls. The woman pulls out a rolled up mat, which looks like a yoga mat, but made out of thin card board. She unrolls it, and begins talking about how the science of chiropractic care has advanced, and now you can do it at home. She takes out a length of two-by-four, and gestures with it; apparently, the patient would lie on the mat while the board was applied in particular angles to achieve the desired results. She says something about how the hands have to be placed a certain number of inches apart to pull, and the board helps with the placement.