I don't know what I was smoking when I had this dream. It was so vivid that I had to write it down.
I also don't know how to classify this story because I was awoken by a noise. Either this was a sweet family reunion short story or a murder horror crime scene.
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My brother and I were at my parents' place, which was a cottage-cabin type of house. We came back from groceries shopping. Plastic bags and paper bags were everywhere on the kitchen counter. Everyone was chatting. I decided to go upstairs to my bedroom for a nap.
Gradually the chatter died down. Gradually I woke up from the nap. I looked into every bedroom; I went downstairs; the groceries bags were still on the kitchen counter. I called out for them. Nobody answered. I shrugged. Maybe they went out again.
I went upstairs. There appeared a white grandmother. She had straight, shoulder-length grey hair. She wore a red sweater. She was plump but basically a regular-size grandmother. She was not part of the family. She was not in the cottage earlier.
My heart jumped. I asked, "Grandmother, do you want to go downstairs?"
She replied, "Sure."
So we walked downstairs to the kitchen. She tapped on the microwave oven and commented, "I could never figure this thing out."
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I heard a "weeeee" noise. It wasn't too loud. I woke up from the dream. I thought it was the neighbor or Math Teacher. I asked him later; he said he didn't make any noise around that time, but the neighbors were being loud as usual.
So, either the noise prevented me from meeting my white grandmother from a previous life, or the noise prevented me from being murdered by a white grandmother in my dream.
Seriously, was I high or something? I would have never thought of this idea in a million years if I were sober.
On the other hand, I do my best writing while sleeping.
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