I’m walking across the local park (which is exact in every way to the real one), when I spot a guy flying a kite. I walk over to him and watch for a moment as the kite soars across the sky.
“Hello,” I say.
The man turns to me, smiles, and returns the greeting. I recognise the guy as me; only me from a few years ago, when I had longer hair (not a good look).
I’m a passenger in a fighter jet racing at incredible speed towards the stratosphere. I look out through the domed glass canopy of the plane and watch with excited eyes as the Earth falls away and the majesty of the vast sparkling void grows across my field of view. Within seconds my weight is like that of a feather.
“Let’s go outside,” the pilot says.
“Cool,” I reply, as the aircraft’s canopy swings opens.
There’s a bin in front of me, which is full to overflowing. It’s bugging me that it hasn’t been emptied yet. I watch as empty cans, sweet wrappers, etc., keep falling off the top of this small mountain of rubbish. I try to clean up the mess, but no matter how hard I ram it all back in, things continue to fall over the rim of the bin again.
I’m driving a car at great speed, while chasing another car. The other car skids to a halt along an ordinary suburban street. A large figure jumps out of the car… Death? Well, he looks like the archetypal Grim Reaper: Very tall and dressed in a long, hooded cloak, although he appears to have left his scythe in the car.
I’m in a department store. I let a woman walk through a small gap between the display shelves, before me. She thinks I made a derogatory comment about her as she passed by and proceeds to tell the other shoppers what a horrible man I am. The other shoppers all start having a go at me.
Some dreams are so incredible that coming back to reality can be a bit of a disappointment. This was one such dream I had when I was a teenager. I can’t remember how old I was exactly, but I can still remember feeling somewhat depressed when I awoke and realised that I did not really have the abilities I had while in dreamland.
I’m wearing headphones and listening to a song while walking along a familiar street. I know every verse to this song, and the addictive tune gives me a happy, albeit unintentional, skip to my step. A woman is walking in the other direction, and as we are about to pass each other, I notice that she is mouthing the words—in time—with the song I’m hearing through my headphones.
I’m in a helicopter, flying over a forest landscape. I hold tight to the harness of my seat, so I don’t fall out of the open door as the helicopter rolls violently to the right. I can see that there is a battle going on down there. About eight tanks are flattening trees and firing at another helicopter which is hovering just above the tree-line.