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I drive north for an hour or two and turn off on a small street of an old industrial village. There a few buildings that appear to have activity inside – – – however, I see no people outside the buildings. There is a small stream that starts high above my head – – – I cannot see where it originates. It flows down a flume and then enters a normal streambed.

I get my fishing pole from the car and fish – – – first in the flume without any luck – – – However, I do know there are fish there because I get a few nibbles on my bait. I then move to the streambed and continue to get nibbles – – – however I catch nothing.

The dream ends there except I have this gnawing feeling that someone has seen me fishing in the flume. I am not embarrassed to be a bait fisherman but I am embarrassed to be seen fishing in a flume.

I return there from night to night.

(Additional dreams will be published in the following days. In the meantime you may check out my books – – HERE – – if you wish.)

§©♠ w. tomosky