Two parts, separated by briefly waking up.
The second part is harder to recall: I’m a disembodied, non-participatory observer of an alien takeover. The aliens are humanoid, and their military has been in charge of the invaded (non descript) country of well-fed white people for a while. Their leadership has been accepted but is not popular. Just like any other military coup. Many soldiers are women, in the native and alien troops. They all comprise one large army. Many women in the alien groups also despise the leadership, and would like to help overthrow or neutralize them, but the native population is naive and makes blunders, confessing and joking about how they dislike the aliens. The alien leadership is simply too powerful; you don’t cross them and survive.
So anyway, now they’re hanging groups of people. Now the hanged are asian in appearance, and they hang as slender asian men but are buried as well-fed white women. The graves are five-apiece. They graves are marked with absurd little childish decorations which the women have drawn for themselves on craft paper with crayons and markers. One person is already in a grave, I’m facing it, but wakes up briefly (as a man). Ample blood is fresh, bright red, but quickly turns black, the body decays and he rolls (as a woman?) from the right to the left, and is really dead. I see the legs of the others dangling. They’ll also be there soon. Cheerful!
Then there is something with Tom Selleck and a lake house. Honestly, I can’t recall.
Ok the first dream was equally lovely:
We’re taking an Easy Jet flight somewhere. My mother arranged it. Easy Jet now has a policy whereby you part with your luggage briefly, and then you have to claim it in order for it to make it on the flight. You have to also know that this happens, otherwise no luggage. So I organize everyone to rush to the waiting area. We have to wait in a big hall in a line, some people drive vans and cars; I have to park the van in a circle to get it to fit right. We wait for at least 45 minutes. It’s rather stressful, because we also didn’t see the luggage beforehand, so we have to just recognize it and then pack it and take it back with us, otherwise it’s lost forever. Each set of luggage comes around in like a big curtained showcase, and you have 15 minutes to sort out your stuff. I’m the only one who is showing any initiative here, making plans, stretching, whatever.
So our stuff comes around. My mother has brought with her to the airport basically the entire contents of her house. There are giant bookshelves, a library, and shelves and boxes and loose things. Stacks and stacks of things, all in heaps, stres and stacked in a semi circle. I don’t think, I just dive in and fish out as quickly as I can, all the things that are mine and which I’d like to keep. There are photographs, albums of ancestors I’ve never seen before. There is a Christmas tree with all the ornaments that belonged to me as a child. My mother is casually and slowly picking off just a few, but not mine. So I have to go back to that. I have to jump up and fish out expensive CD sets of music that are mine. I find silk dresses (oddly, a black version of a pink one I own here), and merrel hiking shoes, technical socks, gloves, other hiking gear. They are on mannequins and I just rip them off and put them on.
My mother mostly just stands around blankly, doing nothing. My brother is also there, but is easily distracted by old toys and surprises, things we haven’t seen in years. I find boxes of my things, loose, and carry them over to our area, dump them there in a safe zone. I am panicked, hurrying. I find things belonging to my father, who is somehow also expecting or had asked me to salvage some of his things as well. I despair because I can’t even look for everything, things I miss and would like to see, especially old letter and albums. But everything has been just tossed here in a pile, and they are already firing up the grinder which will destroy everything I wasn’t able to carry out in the 15 minutes. I wake up to the sound of it.