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Taking Coins Again

Morning of May 2, 2015. Saturday.

In the first part of my dream, I find myself going into a bank while I believe my intentions were to enter a grocery store - though it takes a short time to consider my intent. I seem to be two or three blocks west of my (deceased) sister's Loomis Street house though all of the buildings are seemingly unknown (fictional). After a short time, I realize that I can become invisible and perhaps take what I want. I actually become invisible while standing there (and there are no other customers) but the tellers (behind a large and fully open counter area) do not really react (at least not in any vicarious fashion). I go to the east side of the room (even though, again, the building is unfamiliar yet in a familiar area on Gillette Street in La Crosse and with a recognizable directional orientation) and find a more secure room that is off limits to the public. A male is seated behind a desk but because I am invisible, I walk over to the mostly empty rows of shelves (or so it seems at first) and explore. The male leaves the room and I pick up some large silver coins, which include at least one Australian fifty-cent coin and one Australian twenty-cent coin (even though, again, I am in America and do not really think about this). I incorrectly reason that I have a dollar with these two coins together but it is actually seventy cents. However, I take many more silver coins and leave the bank, still unseen.

I walk easterly and just before I get to the Loomis Street alley (which runs north and south) a post office jeep turns from the alley (very unlikely) and drives toward me. It then tips over on its side farther onto the sidewalk than I am walking because of a rather odd attempt to avoid both me and a car coming from the other way (though this could certainly not happen in the real world). The scene seems to play out in a sort of unusual slow motion. No one seems to be hurt and I keep walking, turning south into the alley.

It turns out that my wife Zsuzsanna and family and I now live in the Loomis Street house, though it is much different inside. What used to be the "junk room" (as my sister called it) but is actually a bit like an enclosed verandah is here similar in structure to a room in our present house on W street, including the wobbly floorboards. Not only that, there is a large room directly beneath in a supposed basement, but of a living room quality and illogically (and likely wrongfully) perceived at this point as being of the first floor at ground level, and the kitchen I am in being possibly on the second floor. There is a small square opening in the floor of the room I am looking into but it is only big enough for a small dog or cat to get through. In fact, I worry that our two cats (fictional, as they are not the same breed as ours in reality, one being a ginger tabby, another a calico, I think) will soon fall through that hole - as they are also in the room with my wife and I also see a guinea pig running around on the floor near the hole. Our two cats soon fall through. Looking down, which seems at least ten feet, I first think I see blood on the tip of the tabby's tail, but this turns out to be a misconception. The two cats look up at me and I report to my wife that they are both seemingly okay. My wife seems "trapped" on the other side of the room (even though there is an outside door on her side - though that would only be the case if rendered correctly in-dream) but carefully walks over in my direction near the doorway, as the floorboards become more and more wobbly and problematic to walk on and I worry the floor may collapse completely (though this does not seem to happen after she exits the room). I make a mental note that the room needs to be closed off.

Later, I seem to return to the bank to invisibly take something else; some sort of large silver horse head (from the same room as the coins), probably about five inches long but apparently worth near a thousand dollars or more. I notice the house is looking much more like the Barolin Street house when I return to put what I have taken in a secure spot somewhere.

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mail jeep tips over
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cats fall through hole
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