For me, going to bed is like booking a seat in the front row of a theatre to watch a free movie.

I have the most vivid and sometimes rather entertaining dreams. They range from cartoons to romance and sometimes more serious dramas. The nightmares are particularly horrific.

On some occasions I’ve woken up to the sound of my laughter, when I have a comic dream. Similarly, nightmares induce occasional screams. Once I was woken up by sobs, only to realise it was my voice and I was crying in my sleep. I still remember that dream more than 15 years later, but I’ll leave it for another day.

By the way, on a normal night, I sleep in three hour intervals and usually have a different dream for each segment, although the dreams in the last interval are the ones I remember most.

So today, in the wee hours of morning and during my final interval, I had an interesting dream in which I was not an important person, but just a casual observer accompanying the main protagonist.

It so happened that while completing some forms in a banking hall in some country, I struck up a conversation with the man beside me. He was a six foot tall, lanky Caucasian man probably in his early 50s, with weathered skin because of the amount of time he spent outdoors. He looked every bit the outdoor type, clad in khaki pants, a blue shirt with rolled up sleeves and a well-worn beige leather hat.

He was just one of those ordinary looking but interesting guys with an odd habit. It’s important to mention the habit because it’s a central part of the dream.

During our first conversation I learnt that this man always carried two sets of keys – one for a car and one for a helicopter – the Cessna type that uses an ignition key.

He and his partner, whom I later met, were in the business of rescuing people in distress, a bit like The Samaritans in action. Their rescue operation was designed so they could access cars and helicopters across the globe using the same two keys.

We instantly became friends and they started taking me on their missions.

One day they were called to rescue twins aged somewhere between the late 30s and early 40s, who were planning to commit a double suicide while skydiving. The two Black ladies of mixed descent, intended to jump off the plane, quickly undo all measures designed for their safety, then free fall to their deaths. In this dream, they were to dive alone and had calculated what it would take to ensure they were dead on landing.

They had envisioned every detail of their deaths and the ensuing media coverage.

Twins, together at birth and in death, exiting the world a few seconds apart, in a tragic but well executed double suicide. Their grievances were well documented in a note that would probably be discovered during the investigations following their deaths.

My hero, whose name I didn’t know throughout the dream, got wind of the suicide plan through the ladies’ family – his business was well known back in his home country.

I travelled with him and his partner on this particular mission.

As in an action movie, they managed to catch up with the twins as they began their descent. With his partner controlling the helicopter, they circled the air while my hero jumped out and managed to catch both women in the nick of time so they all landed neatly in the back of an open truck in some desert.

Of course the helicopter and truck used the universal ignition keys.

The twins were grateful to be alive because at some point during the fall, they’d changed their minds about the suicide.

On our journey back to the city, my hero and one of the twins fell in love. They got married and had twin girls, who looked exactly like their mother. They travelled the world as a family, sometimes on rescue missions and other times on vacation.

One day, while on holiday in Zimbabwe, the father went out on an errand, while the mother remained at their temporary home with the girls who were then toddlers. One of the twins wondered off and had a traumatic experience while the mother was preoccupied with some household chore. It’s not very clear what happened to the little girl, but she was dishevelled and distraught when she was found. The father got home in time to rescue her. The mother blamed herself for the accident, but although he secretly felt the same, he consoled her. In the end it all worked out well and the dust settled. That was his last rescue mission before I woke up. The dream ended as the father took an afternoon nap in their temporary home, after ensuring that his wife and daughters were safe.

In the previous episode on the same night, I dreamt I was at a gig where Zimbabwean contemporary musician, Jah Prayzah, released a new song. It was a beautiful composition in Shona and an instant hit. Of course should he ever sing such a song, I’ll be the first to recognise it. I attended the show with my friends and we danced like crazy. My dance was so breath taking, I wish I could transfer those moves to real life.

So, what’s your dream life like? What images do you see when you go to sleep? I hope they’re as pleasant and entertaining as mine.

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