“… During the off-season, it was a mental hospital…”
(Male, 50′s) I don’t know if everyone would call this a nightmare exactly but at least it was a pretty bad dream. I feel I should mention that I love my wife of 30 years and I don’t think this dream means anything too sinister.
My wife and I were at this bed and breakfast. It was a nice old building with rustic wood everywhere. Very home-y. We took a tour of the place. During the summer – their busy season – they had big Sunday morning breakfasts so there was one whole floor that was a dining room with long tables with checkered table cloths. But this was winter and a lot of the place wasn’t being used. The lights didn’t even work.
At some point I got separated from the rest of the tour. I found my way to the basement where they aged home-made cherry brandy in these huge barrels. There were over a dozen of them and they were immense, taller than I am. I touched my finger to the tap of one of them and tasted the brandy. Not bad.
I went upstairs to a central courtyard and found my wife. She had all of her belongings packed up in suitcases. She hugged me and told me this was just for a week or so, that this would be in my best interest. She was leaving me there. All around me were other people being left by their loved ones. The people being left were mostly in their pajamas with blank, drugged out looks on their faces. I wasn’t like them.
It gets worse. This place was only a bed and breakfast during the summer. During the off-season, it was a mental hospital. My wife was having me committed and she’d lured me there under the pretense of a nice romantic get-away weekend together.
Again, I love my wife and I’m pretty sure she loves me… but I’m not going to any bed and breakfast places with her in the near future.