First dream I was entering a game world, it was like Clash of Clans and very cartoonish at first and I was aware we in the world were awaiting updates. Once in the dream and absorbed things became more realistic.
I was watching an odd race of they were like a cross between motorbikes and insects - they had a set track/line that they moved along and they flew/hovered around. Big enough to ride on.
I find myself in a shared building. I was journeying threw on my way to a new school/uni/lesson and I'd stopped off here to rest.
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I went down into it where there was a basement or a room below ground level. Some of the walls are like bare stone, the dwelling seems scooped out of the earth.
It's a very funky welcoming communal shared space filled with adults. An older hippy type guy seems to be one of the more permanent residents.
It's dark outside and inside is dim lighting too, I think perhaps oil lamps with colourful glass.
There is an old sofa covered with throws, and hand-crocheted blankets, large traditionally woven rugs cover the floor and big floor are cushions scattered about for setting space. Rustic shelving is hammered into some of the walls and the shelves are filled with books.
The room is heated by an amazing large wired stove/cooker like I've never seen before - It's built / Cut into the stone wall, almost stepped and shelved. Like a clay oven I sppose but huge and many of them altogether.
Doors open for fires and metal hot plates are for cooking, other doors are ovens and some of the 'shelves' just seem to be for sitting on to keep warm of resting while cooking.
The adults have strange clothes too, not a familiar style to me. (duno what I had on) It's evening and they are going to share a story together before sleep and they want me to read to them as the guest. I'm a bit reluctant as I don't know them but they are friendly and encouraging so I agree.
I lay back on a floor cushion between a couple and read the book they give me, it's a picture book vibrant bright colours like a 70's children's book - the script is a black old fashioned typeface in English and I can read it through the light in the room makes it hard. (Can't remember what it was about) After the story, we all are thirsty and go into a pantry past the cooker. It's a little brighter in here with a Belfast sink and old tap, homemade open shelves hold a mish mash of old fashioned mugs (the type that celebrates things) and tumblers of cut glass in various sizes. We all get some water.
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Was a school setting. Zak was there but he was my brother - we are taking the same class, it's to do with writing and a competition.
(Oh, found some images of clay type cookers... was like this but built into the basement-dwelling wall and bigger - with more metal bits)
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