Dream: Like A Killer Whale Zeppelin

Amalgamation of past homes and some bits of homes I've never lived in. Perhaps the über fantasy home. Summery afternoon party. Extended family & friends. Something sexual with a woman in a green and white striped dress. Begin music-video softcore sequence. Green and white stripes moving in geometric patterns. Symmetrical, psychedelic dissolves. Split-screen mirror-imaging. Her bending over. Things lifting. Pushing. Pulling. Music from the clock-radio filtered in. "Sexy Boy" became "Crazy Boy".

Sometime before or after. In the huge expansive green yard, like a park. In the distance I saw my brother with a woman, picnicking on the part of the yard that sloped up a tiny bit towards the oversized white picket fence. In the background, I could see a miniature zeppelin or possibly a bomb, painted black and white (also sort of resembling a killer whale in this way), falling nose first in slow motion towards the neighbor's property on the other side of the fence. I didn't do anything to warn my brother. Some strange logic told me that if it were a danger, then he wouldn't be sitting there. The thing will probably fall at a safe distance behind them. Well, let's see. Simultaneously, there was the sense that there was nothing I could do. There wasn't any time. He was so far away. Part of me did try to call out to him. I don't know if he heard me. Then it touched down into the yard and there was an explosion. A huge ball of flame. Things buckled. The white picket fence seemed to expand for a moment. The little knoll at that end of the yard bulged. But they were fine. My brother and his friend were startled and grabbed what they could of their things, blanket trailing behind them as they moved away from the explosion. As quickly as it occurred, it was over.

Later, I walked around the yard with a woman, looking for the area where the explosion occurred. We thought we should get a look at the site. See if there was any damage (we could be liable) and if it was marginal, maybe remove any pieces of evidence (such as the remnants of the "bomb" which I pictured as sort of a popped balloon — the metallic kind, not the stretchy rubbery ones). But the yard was different now. It was smaller. There was no white picket fence. No knoll. I tried to explain to her that there were actually two yards. We made the mistake of going straight out the back door to this one, but the route to the other yard was quite different. Even though they both let out to the same place, which was in the back of the house, and that sort of thing didn't make sense normally, it could make sense in a dream. I imagined if we went back into the house and tried to retrace that route, the house itself and the entire geography of the neighborhood could begin to change. She only glanced at me, half-listening (or pretending to), gave a subtle nod and continued looking around, still thinking she might find something. I got the sense that she thought I was nuts.