(Male, 40’s) I am CERTAIN that this nightmare is not a commentary on my wife’s driving skills — she’s got a MUCH longer commute than I do and she’s never had an accident — but it does call into question perhaps something more important.
The nightmare began in a building of the college I attended. The halls had changed a great deal and I couldn’t find the room I was seeking so I asked a custodian who was the only person I saw even close to my age. He said to consult one of the bulletin boards that had been installed at points up and down the hall. “They’re all controlled by computer now,” he said but I wasn’t sure from the way he spoke if he meant that the boards are more or less reliable than previously. I continued walking around the hall which now had started to curve. I was in a cafeteria area, still not what I was looking for but I continued. The hall got narrower and narrower, the arc of the curve got tighter and tighter and it began to slope upward, at first gradually and then dramatically. I refused to turn around. At the end, the corridor — now a tunnel — erupted into a round hole like a utility hole. I climbed out quite winded to find my wife, standing impatiently next to our car. I must have been looking for her.
I hopped in the passenger seat and she zoomed off. We drove across the college green, up and down over the curbs. We were in quite a hurry evidently. My wife drove quickly and deftly, though she drove on the sidewalk of the residential neighborhood we traversed. As she drove, a small dog ran out after a large bird and were hit by the car. My wife stopped and backed up. I got out. The bird was still alive but a strange bird it was. It had the mottled gray and black of a pigeon but the size and shape of a swan. It staggered around like its back was broken, flapping its wings, trying to fly. The dog, a small creature the size of a mop head covered entirely with reddish brown hair, was clearly dead. A neighbor yelled from the window, starting to make a fuss about the dead animals.
Then I realized that my wife had never gotten out of the car, that I stood staring at her still behind the wheel, the engine still revving. It was obvious that she was going to run ME down with the car. I started running, swerving she drove after me. I could never out run a car. I woke just at the point of impact.