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My Mom and I both dream about the same place

January 29, 2012

My Mom and I both dream about the same place. It’s a three story white house.

We usually dream about the house on the same night, so that in the morning we have conversations like “so, the house was in the Midwest last night,” “Yeah, I know, was the laundry out on the line yet?” “No, the cloths pins were rotten…”

The first time we found out that we had been dreaming about the same house was the day my Ma came out and said “I just had the most terrifying dream ever. I was in a big, square, three story house in the woods and I was just investigating it. I think I was going to buy it. I went up to the third story and got lost and then ran into this idiot man-child.”

“Mom, was he wearing a blue work shirt and suspenders? Did he sleep on the mattress in the back room?”

“…Yes.”

“Was the third story kitchen floor rotting through?”

“…Yes.”

The conversation went on for hours as we went into minute detail. Everything, and I mean everything, matched up. We ended the conversation by each drawing a picture of the house. Identical.

So yeah. There’s that.

For me the way the house rots depends on where the house is. When it’s near the water, like in the man-child dream, it’s a soggy sort of rot. You know how, when particle-board gets wet, it gets sort of mushy? It’s like that. But if you’re there and it’s in, like, Indiana, the wood is brittle, and if it breaks you can scrape yourself.

For Mom–and I just asked her about it–she says it’s always a crumbly sort of rot. She’ll take a step on the solid-looking floor and it’ll just crumble underneath her.

That’s how detailed the dreams are.

Anyway, for some weird reason she and I both want to find the house. We both want to go in. I think, if we found it for sale, we’d try to buy it.

– Posted by Margot23; Reddit

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