Blurry Images

So, in the midst of the busy workload, my subconscious decided to give me some respite by sending messages through the dreams. I only remember bits and pieces of it because it was a late night and an early morning.

I dreamt that we were in Puchong. Or at least we were because of the neighborhood mall that we patronized. The layout was as exactly how I remembered it to be, even though I've never lived there in real life.

The person I was with was taller than me, and while he wasn't sinewy, it was evident that he frequented the gym from time to time. Don't ask me why, but his presence gives off the aura of safety and being cared for.

We found ourselves in a quiet shed near the mall. Even though it was constructed with zinc, it was bright and airy. There was even a decent-looking couch and a table fan, which made us feel lucky that we were there after-hours. Since we had the shed to ourselves, we merely made ourselves comfortable and I fell asleep.

Then, we had to attend to some matters. Seeing that barely anyone knew the existence and location of the shed, I left my backpack there since it was burdensome to lug it around. By the time we returned, there was a senior citizen tidying up the shed. So, I took the opportunity to ask whether he saw my passport (since I couldn't locate it anywhere).

He mentioned that he hadn't seen it either and asked whether I was the owner of the backpack. When he arrived, he saw the bag but didn't want to move it since he knew the owner would eventually return to get the item.

…

Then, in a change of scene, we all found ourselves in the living room of a decent house, working out the arrangements for bed. Since there were a handful of us, it meant that we all had to bunk up and share beds for a while.

Mr. Protector took the room upstairs while my mom and I took the one downstairs with another lady. She was a known associate, but I couldn't remember her name.

Truth be told, I won't need the help of a dream interpreter to assist with this. The moment I saw the neighborhood mall and Mr. Protector in the dream, I already knew what was going on—it was my subconscious's way of sending help.