Last night, an HBO drama took place in my head.
A natural (but man-made, weather-related) disaster ripped through the world. Different regions suffered worse than others, and I was in one of the worst. Near the beginning of the dream, an estranged friend called me on the phone. "Hi, do you want to come and visit?" "Um, we aren't even close to being able to get out of town," I replied, and hung up. She was so detached. She lived in California.
The city in which I was living (New York? London?) was a wreck. Underworlders were taking over, and taking things away from nice people like me. They took away my mobile, rendering me isolated.
But despite this, the next thing I was doing was walking with my husband (thank God!) through an empty, darkened retail area, where a security guard stood watch over a few Tiffany & Co. counters, still open for the .01% (not the 1%). I hooked my arm through my husband's and sighed, "Those were the days." When I passed the security guard, he handed me something, saying, "The gift that keeps on giving." I walked past him, not falling for the marketing ploy, but then realised, wait, the world is different. If this man wants to give me something, perhaps I should take it.
And thank goodness I did. What he gave me was a multi-strand necklace with sporadically placed gold balls and pearls that duplicated itself every time I gave it away. So I went to the people who had taken away my mobile, and gave them a necklace. They returned my phone and my service. Immediately, I had another necklace, which reappeared like an apparition on my neck.
Suddenly, I realised I had a currency for this new world order, and it was going to be OK. I found myself in some version of Saks or Selfridges, surrounded by handbags and shoes, looking for something durable enough to wear through the mess that was the world outside the doors. I would pay with a necklace. But then I looked in the mirror, and saw that giving away necklaces too quickly was bad for my body, and causing a large purple mark at the base of my throat.
I woke up. Do I need a dream dictionary? Or is this as straightforward as it seems?