(Male, 40′s) I haven’t ridden a motorcycle in years but in this dream – no, it was a nightmare – I was on my old cycle. Except it wasn’t my bike. It had turned brown and it had shrunk. My bike used to be an old Touring model Harley, a big bike but the one in my dream was smaller than a Sportster. And it was in rather fragile condition too. The clutch wasn’t holding and it had extremely erratic acceleration. Which meant that I couldn’t exactly predict how fast I could be moving at any given instant. But still this was “my” bike. I was coaxing this thing along.
I was in the neighborhood where I grew up, riding along a street a couple blocks away from where I lived. Everything was dark. My bike was oddly silent which is particularly strange for a Harley. I used to love the sound of it, the way it vibrated in my chest. I took a right turn onto a divided highway. I thought I had plenty of time to turn out into traffic but the bike just stalled. It sort of glided, moving of its own accord regardless of how I tried to make it go faster.
Then all of a sudden I was in the midst of a motorcycle club. I didn’t recognize them but they didn’t lok friendly. They were riding real motorcycles, tuned and precise, not like this withered piece of junk I was pushing along. They were swarming around me, up to no good. I had no club affiliation so I wasn’t wearing any colors but then again, I had no protection from a club either. I wanted to get away from them but I also didn’t want to antagonize them either. The road had turned to dry dirt, like a wide motocross track with huge hills. I was never good on that kind of surface. I skidded around like a maniac oly barely able to keep from hitting these other bikers. I was able to get my bike going in the opposite direction from them and I thought just maybe they’d continue on where they were headed and let me go.
But then two of them started to follow me. One came up on my right and the last thing I remember was that my bike veered off so I cut this guy off and he started to go down. I figured I was finished.
(Female, 40′s) I had two strange dreams involving keys within the same week.
“…If I didn’t know how to use the key, how as I ever going to drive that bizarre car?…”
In the first dream, I somehow got stuck proctoring the SAT exam at the new local high school. It was the dream equivalent of sitting in a room for 5 hours. After the test was over, a friend who was also giving the SAT invited my husband and I to a cook-out at her and her husband’s new home. She offered me a ride and my husband would meet us at her house. They had just gotten a new car too. She and I went out to the parking lot, and I saw a car unlike any I’ve ever seen before. It was a two-seater, but the seats were arranged like the cockpit of a bi-plane with the driver in front and the passenger sitting behind her. It was build something like a bobsled with a glass bubble cover. We got in the car and we drove along. When we got to her house, my friend instantly got busy with making a charcoal fire in the grill and starting to cook these huge filleted chunks of fish. Then I remembered that I’d left my purse at the high school. “Here, go back and get your purse,” my friend said and she handed me something unrecognizable, which was the key to her new car. It was about the size of a credit card and made of plastic, but it was cut into a very odd shape. “How do I use it?” I asked. My friend was exasperated with me. “Just snap off the protectors and enter the code. I already used one set up so it doesn’t matter.” I looked down at the key in my hand, still totally puzzled. If I didn’t know how to use the key, how as I ever going to drive that bizarre car?
I don’t remember all the details of the other dream, but only the image of holding the key to the station wagon in my hand. I was feeling worried. I was holding the plastic end of the key in my hand and I was rubbing my thumb over the metal part of the key. As if from metal fatigue, the prong of the key started to crumble and fall apart into pieces in my hand. Would I be able to put the bits into the ignition and start the car? I had no idea what to do.
Someone I work with said keys are really important symbols in dreams. If either of these keys represent some aspect of me, well, that seems like a bad thing.
(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.
This nightmare was really shocking though I don’t know if I can express that sensation. The situation was very matter-of-fact and every day and the images were VERY vivid. It was one of those dreams I realized the next day wasn’t an actual memory.
I was driving my familiar little compact car down a divided highway. It was night and I was alone. A mist started to rise up that was so thick it obscured the edges of the road but I was still able to see the yellow line down the side of the lane so I thought I was fine. But every now and then a particularly dense patch of fog would just wash up over the car and for an instant or two I’d be almost entirely blind. For the most part these patches would pass so I’d just keep driving, stay the course. Then while driving along, pleasantly daydreaming, I realized that I’d been driving blind for quite awhile. In fact, I couldn’t remember when I’d last seen the lane markers. I quickly flipped on the brights and I was able to pick out a yellow line. Gradually I could pick out the general sense of the road. But somehow, I was now driving on a two-lane highway. The trees and underbrush were much closer to the road and every now and then a car would pass. I would politely turn off my brights which would effectively blind me for a moment or two. Then a car passed and I forgot to put my brights back on. I daydreamed more and continued driving, but this time when I realized that I had been driving blind for quite some time, I wasn’t able to regain a sense of the road just by turning on the brights. Everything outside was a dark cottony grey. I couldn’t even see the hood of my car. I slowed down, a little bit afraid that someone would run into me from behind. I came to a complete stop and still could see nothing out any of the windows. It was almost as if I was underwater.