Liz and I are sitting in a church, in the front row of the wooden pews. There is a brick wall about six feet in front of us. The walls to the left and right feel close. There are many pews behind us, full of churchgoers.
I can't say whether there is a preacher or choir, but certainly everyone is sitting there to attend services.
Liz and I are both reading big newspapers. I think we're dressed in going-to-church garb, but our faces are buried in our newspapers.
An African-American gentleman dressed in a suit stands beside me. I look up at him and try to open my eyes but can't; it's the way you try to open your eyes when you know you're asleep, you use all your strength to open your eyes, but the lids will not open.
I see a dime and penny on the floor. I pick them up and give them to him with a smile. He smiles, takes them, and walks away.
What are we to make of this? Unknown, Keptin. If everything I see in a dream is a symbol from my imagination, and stands in for me in some way, then I'd say I'm in a spiritual place but cannot see it because I'm paying too much attention to worldly things.
