Draft Dodger, a catchall post for dream fragments too small or insignificant to publish

I have had several dream fragments that I can't weave into any sort of narrative, however, I still want to make note of them, possibly for future reference. I'll list them as bullet points or headings, and maybe I'll fill them in later, or perhaps I'll leave this post as an unpublished draft.

A woman in a 1990s Chevy Lumina drove her car into my back yard, up the wheelchair ramp and onto my back deck. I found it remarkable that she managed to do this without causing damage to the car, the fencing or the house. She did, however, leave a few skid marks on the grass.

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I was talking to a lady who drove a newer Subaru Forrester and asking whether or not she'd consider trading me straight across for my 2007 Honda Fit. She found this amusing.

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I had a conversation with Martin Leon and a disabled vet who was wheelchair bound. The guy in the wheelchair was talking in a kind of self-deprecatory way, and Martin suggested that he might have some self-loathing tendencies due to his latent homophobia. I looked at the man with sympathy and tried to say something to assure him that everything was OK, but no words came out.

"I guess size does matter," he joked weakly, and we all laughed tentatively.

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I dreamed I was with a woman of about forty, attractive, with medium length dark hair. I was trying to create a situation, fashion a moment, in which she would kiss me. I wanted it to happen spontaneously, so naturally, I used every manipulative trick in the book to achieve it, but I don't think it ever came about. 

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Dean gets mean, insults Sharon, and it's ON! The title of a dream I intended to write down, but which evaporated before solidification. Dean was a the husband of Sharon's friend Laura, an old neighbor and horse buddy. In the dream, Dean said some disparaging things about Sharon, and naturally, I took offense. I confronted him in a stairwell, and we were about to duke it out.  

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A tree in the back. Back in October, I dreamed that I woke up and went out my back door to find a giant tree had fallen into my deck. At first, I just stared in disbelief, since there weren't any trees currently capable of doing such a thing. Some of the deck railing had been removed, possibly by human agency, and placed on the lawn, creating a picket fence-like effect.

I rubbed my eyes, as if to will this whole scene back to the editing room. I didn't want to deal with yet another fallen tree. After a bit, my eyes adjusted, and I could see that the deck was still intact, and the tree was chopped into rounds, the wood stacked neatly in piles.

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I was at Winco, doing some grocery shopping, and I noticed that someone had placed a giant package of American cheese slices in my basket. I never buy the stuff, so I picked it up and examined it quizzically, like it was an alien artifact. I put it back in my cart and continued shopping.

Later, I was outside, in the front of the store, where the homeless sometimes hang out, and I saw Bob Eckerman smoking a joint. He asked me if I wanted any, but I didn't want to get my hands dirty, so I declined. As I passed by him, he released a giant puff of smoke in a controlled blast, and it caught me right in the face just as I was breathing in. 

"Ahh...you got me!" I said, quoting every gunfighter ever to catch a bullet.

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OK, so I was running through this apartment building, and some guy who lived there saw me and started chasing me. I ran. That's all I remember. It was a scary feeling, but I felt that I had a chance to outrun him if I ducked between a narrow corridor between two rows of buildings. I jumped a couple of railings and trespassed through a couple of patios, and I finally lost him, but I woke up still scared from the encounter.