My City



My first lucid dream of 2015, & one I’m really stoked about. Unlike the previous story I wrote, I started writing this story pretty much immediately after I wrote it down in my journal, so almost all of this was directly recalled from that dream. This isn’t as repetitive as my first lucid dream. It features violence, game-like elements, the C-word, & the splattering of a fast food icon. Again, it involves someone I know from real life; for their privacy I’ll simply call him ‘E’. Hope you enjoy.

The Story

I catch myself in absent thought, staring beyond the car window at the passing stream of stores, fast food chains, & suburbia. I look back inside the car. The interior is all dressed in black leather. I’m sitting in the back across from my mother; she seems to be in a world of her own. My friend, E, is driving.

“E, where are we going?” I ask.
Without averting his gaze to the road ahead he replies, “You’ll see. It’s a really cool place.”

I return my gaze outside. Where are we? The buildings & turns of the car feel familiar. Based on all of these signals, I try to form a mental image of the city. Invercargill? Is that where we are?

The car slows down as we cross a four-way intersection. I look through the right side window beyond mum. We’ve parked directly across a three storey, half enclosed, oriental tower. It looks like a Taoist temple but the building sign, hot spas, & people lying on beds tell me this is a massage parlour.

Left of the tower is a worn down… club? Restaurant? I can’t tell what exactly. It’s just a concrete block painted a darkened white. The front door & window give off a faint pink glow. Might actually be a strip club or a bordello. We’re not going in there are we?

“We’re going to this place,” E says, as though reading my mind. We exit the black car & look to the two storey block of a building on our left. I can’t tell what material the exterior is made of, just a flat dull beige grey patterned with fake lit up windows. It looks like someone painted the walls to appear 3D; though the illusion isn’t fooling me. Emblazoned on the front, ‘Lainarium’ is lit up in big white fancy handwriting.

“What is this place?” I ask E.
“It’s a really cool restaurant,” he says walking around to my side.
I peer again at the building, quizzical as ever. “Really?”
He leans closer to my ear.”C’mon, there’s waitresses who bend down & you can see their cleavage.”

He goes ahead, up the short steps, & through the open front doors of Lainarium, leaving me taken aback. Well okay then. I hope mum didn’t hear that last part.

Mum & I follow shortly after him & I’m pleasantly surprised by what I see. I was worried it would be something like Hooters, but no. The place is your typical classy restaurant with red carpet & wallpaper. Wooden tables of varying sizes blanket the entirety of the large interior. Several waiters & waitresses are serving customers, formally dressed in black & white. I struggle to see how they could flaunt anything in that attire.

E wave’s at us from a small two chair table near the front. We walk past him & along the clustered rows of tables. There must be something more suitable for all three of us. Not that table, it’s too big. That one’s occupied. That one’s devoid of cutlery & dishes. Damn, virtually all of the tables with 3-6 chairs are seated by old people. The only empty tables are small ones like E’s, & tables large enough for a dozen people.

Hey there’s a table. I point it out to mum, right before an old couple sit at it. Cunt!

We walk up to the counter in the centre of the building, hoping the staff can sort something out. We stand facing the front half of the restaurant. E is still sitting at his small table. While my mum chats with the counterman, I stare absent-mindedly at the wood of the counter. I become oblivious to the quieting world around me.

I look up. “Where… is… everybody?”

The once bustling restaurant in front of me is now entirely empty. No counterman, no staff, no old people, not even E. I look to my left. My mother is still there, & several quiet people are behind me. Odd, how could half a restaurant full of people just vanish like this?

Then the possibility enters my head. Could this be? It’s not like there’s any other explanation.

I realize I’m feeling oddly calm about the prospect. I remember the previous times I made similar realizations. I would always feel a rush of excitement when I find myself in this situation, but ten seconds later it would always end. This time I feel no rush or sense of fading; only the possibility.

I notice everything take a ‘hi-def’ quality, as though I’ve only just now paid attention to the world. I rise out of my chair. When did I sit down? I notice I’m holding a gun, except the design is more like a children’s toy. I’m pretty sure I didn’t have this earlier.

I refocus my mind & look to the city beyond the open front doors. I need to take a look outside.

I manoeuvre around the tables & head for the exit. I stop when I see him standing a few metres in front of me. Ronald McDonald, giving me a brooding glare.

I raise my hand. “Whoa! Ronald, calm down. Calm down.”

His glare remains fixed. Out of the corner of my eye, two waiters are advancing behind me. I slowly raise my weapon.

“Calm. Down.”

Do I still need to question if this is a dream?

One waiter rushes towards me. I pop a silenced shot from under my arm. Ronald rushes me to the ground. I fire multiple shots into his chest & face but they don’t even scratch him. I stop briefly to imagine the next shot being powerful enough to blow his head off. I fire & everything above Ronald’s chin splatters.

I turn to shoot the second waiter charging me. His body falls beside the first waiter lying next to me. I fire another shot into the first waiter for good measure.

I go to stand up when a headless Ronald pushes me down. I shoot his chest, his gut, his chest again, his crotch, then his shoulder. He’s still clambering at me. I shoot his upper biceps to disable his arms. He finally relents & drops back to the ground.

Phew. The bastard doesn’t go down easy.

I head out the front doors to the street. Three Skyrim style high elves in elven armour advance on me with their swords drawn. I ‘force shield’ their blades away from me with my palms. Their slashes come at me from all angles but I deflect them all with ease.

Wait. This isn’t what I want to dream about.

I recall what I really want to do when I become lucid, ‘Dive To The Heart’. I jump & slam my palm into the ground.

Shit. I was really expecting that to do something.

I stand up & walk down the road, elves still attacking me. Each hit causes my vision to jolt & I see the odd bit of ‘blood’ fly out of me. I don’t even feel their slices; it’s like I’m on god mode. I figure if I ignore them long enough they’ll just go away.

Several metres down, I reach a four-way intersection. I notice I’m no longer getting the ‘pain’ visual effect. I guess the elves are gone now.

The most immediate city blocks are just fields of grass, giving me a clear view of the city around me. The buildings have an early 1900s European style to them; made of light grey brick work with trimmings of gold & navy. It somehow reminds me of the older buildings in Dunedin, except this seems to be a city of my own design.

“This is my city”, I say to myself. I feel that I’ve dreamed of this place many times before. It’s all so familiar, it’s like a place of my own. I can’t help but smile.

Then the physicality of my body becomes more apparent to me. The world begins to brighten to nothing. I’m returning to my sleeping body.

A stabilization technique comes to mind & I start to spin. I’m expecting a spinning sensation but I don’t feel any motion. It’s like I’m spinning my ‘avatar’ but not myself.

I lose my grip of the world & I fade to wakefulness.


Just some minor trivia. I don’t think the name of the restaurant was actually called ‘Lainarium’, I only recall it being a name like that. When I talk about having dreamed of the city before, I don’t think I dreamed of that exact architecture but, like earlier in the dream, I could recognize the layout of the roads & what not. Also, I didn’t realize how funny the idea of blowing off Ronald McDonald’s head was until I told it to a flat mate. I hope that doesn’t make me sound crazy :).

My other notes about the significance of this dream can be found here. As always, any comments or criticisms are welcome. Thank you for reading.


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