Last night I had two dreams interleaved. “Interwoven” isn’t the right word because, at the end, the dreams were never attached to each other and didn’t seem to have anything in common, but it felt like I was having them at the same time. (Given the nature of dreams and memory, it’s possible that it’s my memory than interleaved them, but that’s neither here nor there.)
One was that I was watching a movie about a bank heist. Part of the strategy of the heist was that one of the characters, already a mid-level bank employee, would position himself to get access to funds and siphon them to his friend on the outside. During the course of the film, they’re successful in stealing a decent amount of money, but not the big payout. And then the inside man (Gerhardt) is promoted to a very comfortable position, and has second thoughts about continuing with the heist. The characters argue extensively, but then ultimately the one on the outside (Pablo) relents and disappears to another country (where he can’t be extradicted), telling Gerhardt that, if ever Pablo feels he’s wrong him, he’s going to trigger the last part of the heist, leaving Gerhardt exposed. I won’t spoil the ending in case I manage to adapt this to the sort of story I’d write, but it made me cry. Literally, in my dream, Niagara Falls.
The other was a confusing mess: Stuff about work, it was Thanksgiving, there was lots of food, at some point I was inexplicably naked and had to find my clothes, there was a cookout, I had been harassed by kids on bicycles and but older kids on bicycles had come to my rescue, there was supposed to be s’mores and there were ham steaks and nothing made a lot of sense.
Anyway, I wanted to save the first dream in case I do double back and write it up properly, but again, I’m not sure I ever will. Over the years I’ve had several dreams that would make excellent short stories, and they’re still unwritten.