I was stationed at the top of a grassy hill next to a redwood tree.
I had a gun that could only shoot one bullet at a time—to shoot another bullet one had to cock the handle back, in which case another bullet would fall into place. I found this strange, but there was no one to ask about it. I stood there waiting and waiting, constantly turning my head in different directions to see if anyone was coming. Finally, from off to the side, I saw a very tall, fat man in a black suit slowly walking toward me. When he got close enough that I could clearly see his face, I shouted, “Stop or I’ll shoot!” I noticed that he had one arm folded across his chest and in his hand he held a camera, which changed into a gun, and then back into a camera, and then back into a gun. This went on continuously second by second. When he was about 30 feet from me, I started backing down the hill holding the gun straight out, trailing him until he stopped in the spot where I had previously stood. “Drop it!” I yelled, and as he pointed what now remained a camera at me, I fired a shot, which to my surprise bounced off his head. Realizing I didn’t have enough time to cock my gun to get another shot, I dropped it and started running. I remember that I turned around once and saw that he was carefully aiming the camera at me as I zigzagged across the grass, trying to make it harder for him to follow me. And then I heard a shot, which hit me right in my lower back. I froze on the spot, straightened my body, and then fell straight down onto my face. As soon as I hit the ground, I awakened in a complete panic. My pajamas were soaked, and so was my pillow. When I shook my wife awake and told her the dream she said to me, “Yeah, that’s a very bad dream. We’ll talk about it in the morning. In the meantime, why don’t you change your pajamas and put on a new pillowcase. There’s a fresh one in the closet!”