Whew!

That was quite a dream. I'm still a little breathless.

I was in the middle east, Israel maybe, visiting with my family. The streets and businesses busy, crowded with people. I only remember the end clearly and that's enough.

I was with my father, talking with a group of mostly men. All very friendly and joking and laughing, talking about what we were going to be doing. One of them asked if I wanted to work with the police. I rapped out a no, without thinking and in a very definite voice. They all laughed, made jokes/comments, not in a mean way, about how I hadn't needed to think about that.

I was thinking about how it would be fine to be a policeman if I could work among children, and I was about to say it to them, when I heard a horrific scream coming from nearby. I don't know exactly what it was, something about someone had separated the lambs from -- something, I don't know.

I ran over there and in a little fenced yard, with screams everywhere, there were lambs standing and pieces of flesh. They were small pieces of flesh and I knew without looking too closely that they were pieces of small children. A young woman was coming down the yard, tossing out pieces as she approached the fence. Slowly tossing them, not looking around, just walking and tossing.

I remember screaming, not sure if it was me or not, but the screaming was so loud, no harsh, so full of anguish -- blood or flesh or something poured from the throat with the screams.

The young woman was at the fence. She looked at me. I was stunned and horrified. My father was behind me, pulling me away. She was in her late teens, early twenties, beautiful in her youth. She smiled. It wasn't a happy smile. It was a smile of, what, terrible victory. Then a knife came across her throat and killed her.

A woman pulled the knife away, let her fall. She was the killer. She was Isabella Rossellini. She was stern and vengeful. Punishing. Don't know if she was the mother. There were no tears, only vengeance.

Woke up to the alarm right at that point.

An earlier part of the dream -- there was a kind of convention, a meeting of people, trying to solve problems, talking over issues and solutions, all kinds of people, my impression is mostly men. I was there, participating. I was thinking how good it was to be a part of it, to be a part of something trying to make a difference. And how it wasn't stiff or stuffy, but real. Real people trying to make a difference.