Morning of January 23, 2015. Friday.
Had this dream been far less abstract and surreal in its meandering like a Picasso painting, I might have retained more of the details. As it is, several scenes still stand out fairly clearly, though there were many minor disjointed events.
Near the beginning, I notice that a television show is on which my wife watches with me for a time. It is mostly about a miniature man (about four inches high) living in the kitchen of an elderly lady who acts a bit crazy at times. A raccoon wanders about in the kitchen though the lady and her visiting friends call it a rat. Apparently it is their "pet rat", though I first realize that it's actually a raccoon by seeing its larger tail, soon confirmed by viewing the rest of it. It supposedly keeps the miniature man from leaving the area while he hides in a paper sack on the floor, though he does go a few other places over time. There are other things going on, mostly incoherent. It is a bit like "The Incredible Shrinking Man" from 1957 incoherently combined with aspects of "The Borrowers" from 1997.
Another woman, related to the elderly lady - likely her daughter, is now in the actual environment. Meanwhile, the older lady dances around on the couch, simulating a Chuck Berry act. We seem to be on the scene now with "real" people at the location from the television show. The unknown woman has several children around the same age, but there is one toddler. A girl standing on a chair near the kitchen sink is bumped into by the toddler and she then starts screaming about her hand. I see that her index finger is bent back and is apparently broken. Though she needs immediate medical attention, the mother completely ignores her. I decide that she should go to the hospital but I am not sure about transportation or where the telephone is.
The scene shifts. Apparently the girl has died in the hospital from her broken right index finger. I am at the hospital, seated at a small table on my own, eating a bowl of small roasted chicken legs (in the hospital's larger restaurant), which is somehow what remains of the girl. I eat one and a half of them (and unlike many dreams, the taste is quite realistic; that is, it tastes exactly like mildly spicy roasted chicken legs) before very vaguely mentally questioning the reality of the scene, though do not become lucid at all. It seems that hospitals do this (cook and serve up people who had died) as part of their normal routine. However, after a time, I feel a bit strange in that perhaps saving the bones can help her somehow - there may be medical information engraved on the bones on how to restore her to perfect health. There is still a slight sense that she is alive elsewhere but I turn out to be wrong.
Three unfamiliar men question me about the antics of the girl's mother and what else I may have been witness to, two on one side across from me, one closer to me near what resembles a bakery display in a grocery store (where you remove what you want with tongs). We are in a different restaurant but still in the same hospital. (An older man is ready to be processed and cooked by a nurse to serve a visiting group of tourists - I get the impression of "pheasant under glass".) The girl's death is almost like an implied international conspiracy though the main male asking questions appears somewhat confused as well as very condescending. He says that there was more to it than a broken finger (possibly food poisoning or perhaps additional broken bones).
He starts talking about seeds and I have a false memory about her eating mostly only seeds from fruits and vegetables (some of which have concentrated toxins) and think this may have caused stomach problems. I mention this and the man starts acting condescending again and remarks that he had been talking about grass seed (which could have lodged in her appendix) and poison sumac and such in an outdoor environment. This leads to some sort of abstract illogical contemplation that fruits and vegetables only grow indoors. After a time, I start to call the man "crazy" and begin to get quite annoyed over his various theories and how it relates to the time zone, banking systems, investment portfolios, and foreign stocks. He also keeps mispronouncing words. The other two males do not say much. They may be Russian and not that familiar with English.
He mentions something about "anacondo" (which seems like a foreign organization for a short time akin to NATO) and I correct him, saying "anaconda" (though in-dream, "anacondo" seems the male form of "anaconda" which is implied as female as with the comparative "amigo" and "amiga") and I falsely "recall" that the woman had a pet anaconda that ate some of her neighbors and her attitude and behavior had always been problematic overall. There is eventually an association with the family's surname being "Langdon" but I am not familiar with them otherwise. I falsely "remember" that a female classmate had possibly married a Langdon and they all live on the third or fourth floor of an apartment building in different smaller apartments (even though the previous scenes were seemingly in a larger residence on the first floor) where I am then viewing from the street with my wife as my dream loses cohesion.