DREAM: I was young--17 or 18 years old-- and I'd been sentenced to death by the Grand Dictator of our failed nation. My father was with me in the dictator's court as the sentence was handed down. My father in the dream was my real-life father looking pretty much like this, but wearing a white shirt and tie with a beautiful teal cashmere pullover instead of the dark suit.
In real life, I never knew my father when he looked like this (and neither did my mother) since he was 55 when I was born. Anyway, in the dream, my father and I accepted that I was doomed. The dictator granted me one last day to spend with my family, and my father and I decided that we would not divulge my sentence to them since it would only spoil our last hours together. The Grand Dictator agreed that my father could accompany me to my execution and I took comfort in that. We knew that I could not escape. The secret police were watching the house. It would be bombed if I did not return to meet my fate, and if we all tried to escape, we all would be hunted down and killed. I woke up before the execution--so that was nice, I guess. I don't know what my crime was, but I was young and rebellious and the country was in shambles.
I think my father might have visited me in my dream because I yelled at my mother last night. Yep. Outright yelled. After she tried to clear the table looking like something like this.