Think I was hanging out with as a boy of about ten with another kiddo, probably from the same class, though I don't remember I recognized him in the dream or when conscious. We dropped in at his place, and his mom sent him to have a bath (guess we messed ourselves while playing outside). I had to use the loo, and it was in another bathroom where the tub bottom was all scratched. So I thought this was where they bathed the dog. Funny you get such things on your mind when asleep. At least it's not a common situation or I didn't have reason to think of stuff like that lately.
Then somehow the mom with the daughter were in there, and we were discussing some more serious matters. Also I was a young adult or late teen, and so were the girl. We decided to get into the car and find a place in town. I also remember to have a seat pressed to the girl in the back of a car that even had a wider back above the wheels, making it look quite futuristic. The place was some kind of an old abandoned garage made of wood, inside a small backyard surrounded by walls. I remember we left the gate open wide, as the whole little street was completely silent in the twilight. (When I woke up I knew it was the street where the kindergarten I used to go to was, and later the way I used to go to primary school)
God only knows what we were looking for there - maybe our suddenly lost youth. For some reason, I felt like I needed to stay guard while the others were busy with their mission (I didn't feel much involved). So I was standing near the gate, and, using my hand to shade my eyes against the light coming from the garage/barn, I was looking up into the already dark sky, spotting moving lights amongst the many shiny stars. I recall - even now as I'm writing this - seeing one that I clearly found to be a plane moving smooth along its route, and some others that wouldn't bother me.
However all of a sudden something strange and inexplicable started down there. The daughter got somehow shrunk and closed inside - the best way to explain it would be, as if a ginnie in a bottle, so only her distorted face was visible, but that was projected on the surface of the wood, I guess. The others didn't seem to be anywhere anymore, no traces or clue, but I was looking for their memories, and found myself staring at some planks and nails on the structure of the barn/garage. Guess the only one who was still there with me, was the mom, but I could only hear her voice, suggesting to call the police, and also get away.
(Actually it could be that we got into the car after this, with the wider backside - which could easily happen in a dream, but also in reality/time that surprises us all the time with the way of its variations/dimensions.) And I am not quite sure because of this gap/switch in the story, if it was then that I was then walking out of this street, and looking on that square I could hardly avoid making my way home in real life (though in my dream I didn't recognize it). It was not dusk, but more like a cloudy morning, and some folks were around as on an ordinary day. Someone I saw from behind and seemed to have straw hair (literally made of straw), turned back, not looking at me with eyes, as didn't have one, but the face seemed to be made of sack canvas, and yet a pair of glass put on it under a hat.
This frightened me more than anything that went on in that little yard before. And I think it was then, that we were back there again, and showed the place to the police. As we stepped out to the street, we saw a chaotic recollection of the events we told them, as if an absurd Yellow Submarine scene, impressed on the back of a bigger vehicle. Some pictures cut out off the material world and moved in 3D, others difficult even to comprehend. The last thing I seem to be able to recall is an office I was sitting in at a computer typing the things, like I'm doing now, as if in a chat to a friend. Funnily then he answered, and I guess, he asked me to look at the display of the printer, or why else would I do that. There I read something like 'April's print fool'. And that's the end of story.
Story Sample - Ray Bradbury: The Whole Town's Sleeping
Silver Screen - Rod Serling: The After Hours
Song Selection - Madonna: Skin
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