3/3/96
I am at a party at a friend's place. I do not recognize the home, nor the people. Images are random. The intense part of the dream has not yet occurred.
I become my five-year-old self and I am kidnapped. This is not a recollection dream, for I do not recall this event taking place in my life. I am outside in a poor urban setting, reminiscent of Newark, the town in which my law school is located. It is dark, perhaps midnight. The kidnappers haul me into their black Porsche, and place me in the middle of the back seat. There are four kidnappers; one on either side of me, and two in the front. I can barely see out the windshield, which gleams like a computer or television screen. What is more is that the screen wavers in circles and diagonal zig-zags.
The screen shows the blur of the city zooming by as the Porsche hurtles forward at breakneck speed. I may be screaming; it is unclear what I am doing... I am most conscious of my state of panic. There may be sirens and flashing red lights coming from behind us, but again, this is not clear.
Then, a face appears in the front passenger's-side car window: wearing a police officer's hat. And pointing a gun at the kidnapper in the passenger seat. The driver was cowed; the car came to a stop. I feel a rush of relief. The policeman's face resembles the face of an African American movie actor... the guy who played the cop in Clockers.
I wake up with a grin.
