It started out as epic fantasy, with a "Job--A Comedy of Justice" style world-shifting, the kind where you cling to your valued possessions at all times lest you suddenly be whisked to another reality without them. At one point I was told that the next reality I and a group of people I don't know in real life were going to shift to would be underwater and then we'd have to make our way through an opening out to the air again. So I was hyperventilating in preparation, but not knowing exactly when it would happen.

Abrupt segue into dream number 2, where we landed instead on a street corner where this homeless boy was living. I was with only one of the group from dream number 1 and we didn't know whether we were going to be whisked to waterworld from there or what. I tried to talk to this boy, about nine years old by my guess. He was African-American and didn't speak to me but when I asked his name, pointed to the phone booth. I looked at the phone booth and all around it for some clue and found a piece of paper in the coin return slot. It was a letter from an aunt, who had written her address and phone number and his mother's as well. I decided to try to place a call on his behalf to the aunt, but having no money I called collect. I explained the situation to the operator and she tried but somehow the call didn't go through. I hung up, not knowing if I should call the mom or not. I felt bad that I couldn't seem to help this little boy and knowing I would not be there for long to protect him. I put the letter back where I found it.

I woke up abruptly from this dream, way too early and with a bad headache. This world-shifting stuff is stressful!