I’m in a building / house, in the second floor. There were tall, thick trees in back that were pulled up, and placed against the building so as to block / cover the view out the window.
I am on the second floor of same building(?), and looking out a window, I see a young woman (20’s) in her truck surrounded, and covered with wood chips. I tell two women who are deep in conversation behind me (one young, the other in her early 50’s), who then get up to go help, still deeply engaged. By the time I get there (I never do see these women down there, or again), I see that she has gotten up, and realize what was the truck was just some foam, with a facade of a truck, by sticking a piece of wood through it.
I am in a room with a rectangular table. There is a young black man (late teens / early 20’s) sitting at the table. Seems there may be a chalkboard behind him. I sit on the other side of him, across the table. There is an older man sitting at the end, to my left. I mention my reason for sitting where I sat is because we all need our space. The young black man is happy with this answer, and repeats, “Yes, we all need our space”, placing his leg(s) over the chair(s) next to him toward the other man.
I am in a kitchen, and a man tells me he needs to speak to me. (Or perhaps those are reversed?) I am standing with a fridge(?) to my left. Up in the ceiling is a fold up door with ladder attached. The passage is barely big enough for an adult to go through. The man is waiting for me up there. The bottom portion of the ladder isn’t coming down. While I’m fiddling with it, I’m thinking about a circular stairway (somewhat like in a lighthouse) behind a door that uses, and wonder why I can’t just use those instead.
The backyard has dirt over on the right side over by / next to the (old man) neighbor. I pick up one grain of dirt, and a big hole appears, engulfing some of the neighbor’s paver bricks (he doesn’t have any). I mention this to someone, that I only picked up a single grain of dirt.
My dreams 