The Book of Ineffable Dreams

22.03.19

0625 hours

I remember that I was in the backseat of a small eggshell-white car. Kind of like a Perodua Kancil.

[ ^^ the car looked like this but slightly smaller ^^ ]

The two partners that I had were both adults. One man and one woman. I never saw their faces, only the back of their dark-haired heads.

I remember that there was more talking than scenery. The most scenery that I could actually remember were the almost empty roads that ran past the bright green lands of the countryside. At some point, the car crossed a wooden railway and nearly scraped the bumper of another car with the trunk of our car.

Anyways, our trio was discussing about this man, the head of a mafia. The gist of the conversation was that the Mafia Boss was exploiting people as well as killing the ones who 'knew too much' about him.

And let me tell you, that latter part was the worst thing to hear at the moment considering that our spying mission involved us doing exactly that: getting to know too much about Mafia Boss.

* * * * *

My male partner drove up the driveway of a marble-white mansion. The mansion of the Mafia Boss.

By that point, we had been talking about the family of the Mafia Boss. Specifically, about the Boss's wife who didn't love him but proved useful in getting what the Boss needed.

Soon, we pulled up to the back door of a building, a little far away from the main mansion.

The wall was made of red brick and a door was set into the middle of the wall. A staircase with a black railing lead up towards the door.

Next to the door was a statue of a man who wore dark-coloured pants and a fancy-looking red coat with coattails. The statue looked like the man below.

[ ^^ Stanley Spark from Criminal Case game ^^ ]

I was looking at the statue of Stanley as my male partner reversed the car to park. I swear that the eyes of the statue of Stanley moved to look at me.

I looked away, choosing to dig through the bag that I had brought along for all the stuff that our trio would need.

I can't really remember much of this dream but my dream bag was definitely the most memorable part of this dream. The only reason that I remember it so clearly is because, for an allegedly 'very serious' spy mission, my bag was soft and yellow and had a tiny duck head hanging from its zipper.

— — — — —

A/N: Actually, now that I'm thinking about it again, that was probably the best kind of bag to bring: innocent-looking and unassuming. Also, kinda wishing that I had that bag in real life.