Night Gas Station Dream

Last week I had a vivid dream which has stayed with me. These are the details.

I am the owner of a gas station in the middle of nowhere. It is pitch black darkness beyond the station. Though I cannot see anything out there, my sense is that there are endless miles of sand dunes in every direction. The blackness is much more intense than normal night. It is oppressive and seems more like a horrible force hiding a menace from view. It is the night of a horror film back when they focused more on atmosphere than shock to inspire a feeling of dread.

By contrast, the gas station is brightly lit. There are four old fashioned pumps beneath a large overhang. There is also a mini mart. I am inside of the mini mart looking out at the pumps through the front window. A man in black has his motorcycle parked beside one of the pumps. He is pumping gas into his vehicle, while crouched beside it. He seems to be doing a mechanical check.

There is a shed outside. I need to retrieve something from there, but I am apprehensive about passing by the motorcyclist on the way. An unseen customer in the mini mart has asked me to fetch something from there, and I need to do it. The unseen customer has his bicycle inside the mini mart. It is broken, and the part needed to fix it is inside of the shed. I finally venture outside. I can feel the desert wind against my face, while I walk toward the shed. I keep my eye on the man in black. He does not react to me.

As I approach the shed, my point of view focuses in on the shed door. It is like the shot from a camera being walked toward a latched wooden door. There is something wrong about all this. If I open the door, then I shall be releasing something bad.

I look back and see the pumps and the mini mart some distance away. The shed now is further from the station than it had been before. I am alone in the intense dark just a few feet from the door.

Published by Michael Sean Erickson

I write, act, and produce films in Los Angeles. Everything else is conjecture.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: