Morning of August 26, 2014. Tuesday.
This is one of those typical dreams of discovering a hidden or previously unexplored room in the house, more common since around age thirty or so. Such rooms are usually filled with things previous tenants had left behind, usually intentionally (implying they had been discarded or forgotten about) although sometimes items are still possibly wanted but yet unclaimed. The items are often old books (often paperback novels), post cards, documents, letters (in envelopes), receipts, order forms, old newspapers, family photographs, notebooks and binders, comic books, and so on, but often with other items such as random knick knacks, and even clusters of plastic flowers or old automobile tires and sometimes clothes.
This dream slowly moves into that theme when I go to find a bathroom in the house we are living in now and discover it is very different and seemingly more in the central area of the house. As I go down to use the toilet, I start to contemplate whether or not it is actually a toilet - as it consists of a large rock-pool-like area under the floorboards (which for a short time seems like some sort of potentially partly dysfunctional temporary plumbing). The water is flowing southward, mostly under a smaller horizontal recess or alcove, and I get the impression of exploring the area since there soon seems to be a larger cave-like recess after a time (as if the environment is gradually changing as I watch - it even seems a bit mystical for a time). Soon, there are several other people around, mostly unknown, a few possibly relatives. My wife eventually comes into the large additional room that I go into that now suddenly seems fully accessible even though it had not originally seemed to have a doorway anywhere. As I do not recall having seen this (fictional) room under the house before, I decide to see what it is about.
There is first concern about water damage to anything that was there for so long, as the room is apparently filled with water much of the time, but oddly, this is not the case. There are a large number of paperback books in at least five rows on one large longer shelf to the right of the entrance and a few other areas with storage boxes and single shelves. There is a series of vases with plastic flowers on the opposite end. There are boxes of documents and old receipts and a lot of old magazines, the columns of boxes filling much of the large room mostly about three-high (and there does seem to be a few old clothes here and there, some sticking out of the boxes). Annoyingly, yet creating an atmosphere of humor in-dream, I ask "Where are the comic books?" One unknown female seems amused by what almost seems like fake anger on my part. However, I am actually disappointed that out of hundreds of magazines and old newspapers and documents (as well as all the paperback novels on the larger bookshelf) that there are no comic books, although it is eventually thought there are random ones here and there below other items.
I then look over some of the paperback books in the bookshelf. A lot of the books seem to be in a series, most about a particular animal. A couple of the books remind me of “Halic, the Story of a Gray Seal” by Ewan Clarkson, which I had gotten on my eleventh birthday yet did not read until several years later (just prior to my family moving to Wisconsin again). They seem to be a continuation of the story (the focus possibly also related to having seen last night with my wife Slicker the seal in the 1941 movie “Topper Returns” which also featured hidden rooms).
Oddly, I notice that, in every paperback novel (each of which has a few simple sketches here and there, mostly of a particular animal, some images just a head profile) two or three letters of every line is missing along each margin on every page. Some of these missing letters had been filled in rather sloppily in pencil by the previous owner of the books, but fairly sparsely. This is also the way they were published - by intent. Apparently, you have to pay a fee by some sort of subscription membership where you then receive lists, over a longer time period, of the missing letters so that you can write them in and more easily read the contents of the book. It is also implied though, that some of the letters are based on the answers to related simple “puzzles” you have to buy additionally in other books or single documents. This sounds to me like some sort of idiotic scam for simpletons, vaguely reminding me of the fairly common but fake “code-breaking” tasks where you just copy letters from the given numbers rather than having to solve anything. I am annoyed by the books being like this, but there is not much I can do except wonder if the lists of missing letters are in a box somewhere in the cellar-like room - or - I could possibly work out most of each page without any aid. (For some reason, it also vaguely makes me think of cryptic puzzle contests where the supposed “answers” are written afterwards so that less or no prize money needs to be distributed based on the “answers” that were sent in by the public.)
There are also a couple piles of PAIA (Pan-American-Indian-Association) newspapers, some of which I had never seen before.
This is based mostly on real-life associations. I often see newspapers in archives where a word or two is missing from every line along a margin in the graphic images (rendering it mostly unreadable and pointless), caused by a curve in the paper when on the scanner and the person not bothering to make sure it is flat.