What’s behind that door?

Last night I dreamt of a group of people who I was reluctantly handing out keys to. What the keys were for or where they came from I couldn’t say. I do know that I was annoyed at having to give them to people who wouldn’t appreciate them. I walked over to a counter where there was a man, sitting on a stool, in a tan uniform and red satin bomber jacket. He hands over a key to a man in what would be officer summer whites for the Navy. But, the uniform was bright red. When the red officer took the key he went to unlock a door that was in front of him. The tan uniformed officer yelled to him, “YOU DON’T WANT TO GO IN THERE!!”

And, then I woke up.

What was in there? What in the world did I lock behind that door? I’m dying to know. Is it my rage? Long buried memories of a traumatic event? No, both of those are more than obvious in everyday life.

I’m excited to get to sleep and find out if I have another good mystery.

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