Morning of January 31, 2014. Friday.
This is a long dream of flying. Hardly anything happens other than flying around over mostly a fairly barren area. There does not seem to be many buildings, yet there is supposedly a larger population. At times, I am wearing a rather loose-fitting Superman outfit but normal clothes at other times. Sometimes I have the cape, sometimes I do not. Most people either do not notice or seem a bit annoyed or frightened.
I go to a small school that looks much like the kind on an old television western such as “Gunsmoke”. The only other person in the building (a one-room school) is a man with a beard who seems to be a teacher. I tell him that “all other people can fly”. I say this a few times, but he does not quite seem to understand. I say this because I seem to be certain that other people can fly, but no one does but me, which seems a bit annoying. I insist that “all other people can fly” but he seems to deny it. Apparently I am the only one in my dream (at the time) that can.
I fly around and notice there are no buildings at all in some areas. The people all seem like pilgrims at this point. I land in the middle of a long featureless road and someone calls me “Kal-El”. Not much happens. The people sort of seem like they are from the 1600s or earlier, but only at times. They are friendly for the most part when I am standing on the ground. They do not seem to have any cars or any kind of technology for the most part. The higher I am, the faster I fly. The lower I go, the slower.