A couple weeks ago I dreamed of zombies. That is odd since I don’t tend to partake in anything in which the subject matter is zombies unless, of course, one considers that one of my favorite games is Plants Vs. Zombies. But, I’ve played that for a few years thus far without anything undead haunting the visions of my sleep.
In the dream I recall knowing that there was some sort of zombie apocalypse happening, but I was not afraid.
At some point I, along with my sister, were in this large and gorgeous house. I remember my dreaming self wondering where the homeowners were, and assumed they had succumbed at some point to the zombie-related terror that was going on somewhere outside.
Still, I was not afraid. I was even comfortable enough to open a couple of the large wooden dining room windows to let in some rain-fresh breeze.
Yes, the skies were gray and a little damp that day. Those are my favorite kind of skies.
I perused the home, thinking how I’d like to live in a place such as this. I even went upstairs to check out the layout and see if the master bedroom had its own attached bathroom.
Mind you, I was not looking to move into the home myself. That would certainly be in poor taste if indeed its owners were out there somewhere, now part of the mindless undead shuffling the streets of whatever town I was in, having fallen victim to whatever was going on out there.
I was taking mental notes for my own house shopping, something I do for real when I am awake.
In this oh-so-odd dream of mine, at some point my sister and I went outside. Passing in some sort of military-esque vehicle, like a Hummer, was the Incredible Hulk. Not mild mannered Bruce Banner, but Mr. Banner in his very large, very green, very angry form. He was a passenger in this Hummer, if that bit of trivia matters.
Still, I was not afraid. And, I recall thinking that it was a good thing that the super heroes were close. Somehow that meant that I was much safer, even though I was not afraid.
I will say, the only frightening part about this dream — no, not the walking undead or the destruction that lay somewhere beyond the front door of that lovely old home — was that while I was perusing the house, I came to a corner room, tucked back off another room upstairs.
As I turned the corner to that room I was thinking how interesting it would be to have a little home office tucked away like that, but I was met with the back of someone’s head, and the face to that head was pointed to a television that was on.
Oops, I thought. They are home, and just tucking themselves away until this zombie thing passes.
This girl (I’m assuming here because the hair flowing from the back of that head was long and dark and pretty) didn’t turn around or anything, and I didn’t think she was a zombie because, well, you just don’t see zombies taking part in being entertained by the boob tube, you know?
It was after that little fright, that realization that my sis and I were not harmlessly seeking shelter, you know, until this zombie thing passed, but were trespassing. So, that’s when we went outside and saw the Hulk cruising by in that big vehicle.
And that is where I woke, on the heels of the dreaming thought that we had to be safer because the super heroes were near.
I’ve attempted to find some sort of meaning by Googling zombies in dreams, apocalyptic stuff in dreams — you know, all of the above. But I didn’t come up with much, at least not much that I could relate to.
So, I guess for all of the terrifying potential in a zombie-centered dream, for all the horror that could have filled my visions, things certainly could have been much worse. After all, I didn’t see a single flesh-eating undead thing, and I got to see the Hulk. So maybe it just boils down to a weirdo dream.
All in all, that’s not too bad, even if all the mumbo jumbo in the dream symbolism I looked up points to my being dead inside.
Reach Angela Shepherd at 937-393-3456, ext. 1681, or on Twitter @wordyshepherd.