It's 4:53 AM and I woke him up from this terrifying and beautiful dream which I'm trying to write down before it fades. First, in the dream I am a woman living alone and I have three encounters with a killer who's trying to move into my house. I've already forgotten most of the first encounter. In the second it's a sort of Victorian mansion and I succeeded in getting away. The mansion is full of red velvet walls and golden baroque molding.
In the last encounter, I'm escaping to a house by a river. It's a house with white washed walls next to a pier and a river. The killer follows me. I send him away by forcing him to sing a sort of cursed song in D major which makes him unable to stop moving and he and a woman he is with go away by boat when they leave a strange woman enters the room and begins dancing in a jerking way. She is in white. I'm thinking St. Vitus dance. Thrashing around. Then she stops and the killer returns. I realize that I have a choice of sending him and his friend away with the song, or forcing the mad dance to enter them. I send them off again with the wild song.
I run into a room, a breakfast room in a hotel. And try to write down this dream. And I do so my sister shows up and starts telling me a story. Please don't please don't I say. I'm trying to write down this dream. It's so important and I'll forget it. She keeps talking over me. I finally leave the room and start writing the dream out in another room. In this dream, I can barely remember anything except the third encounter. I keep writing that I'm a suburban woman. Then I keep correcting myself. Because there's not actually a suburb. As I do so, I wake up.
I've already forgotten so many of the details. I'm going to go back to bed now and maybe more will come back to me.
4 hours after the last dream I woke up from a different dream ... still staying at some hotel, I am on my way to breakfast down a path with flagstones under an awning, but I have to vacuum the path as I go. The "vacuum cleaner" is a pole with a flexible joint and a completely circular metal plate with a sort of gauze pad that has contact with the ground. The vacuum cleaner doesn't work well (indeed I can't see any visible power supply or source), and by the time I get to the breakfast area my gauze is worn. I shout out to a busboy, I need a new vacuum cleaner. I wake up.