Signs and Portents... and something else

I do not usually remember my dreams, not even vaguely. I usually do not even have the feelin gof dreaming, like when you wake up in the morning and you know you have dreamt of something, even if you can't remember a thing of it. As far as I know, and I should know, it has always been like this since I moved out of infancy.

That said, it's so strange that over the last three nights, I woke up twice with memories, in one case very vivid, of strange dreams. The first case is a tad too personal and involve other people, so it shall not be posted here, but the other is kind of psychedelic and sees no one involved but me, so I suppose I can write about it, just to give you a laugh (or some worries about my mental health, peraphs).

So it was that I found myself in the Second World War. Not sure which side, but in something that looked much alike "Band of Brothers", a small unit and in the middle of a fierce fight in which some were killed, some blew up. Then, I was suddenly back home, war over, driving a red Ferrari to a circus, of which I was the owner. The main attraction of the circus was a band of Walt Disney like white mices (no, not cartoonish, but human like, able to walk, talk and wearing shades) with a number involving a long firemen ladder. We were about to have a show for charity, when suddenly the mices decided they were not going to perform.

So we were behind the scenes and suddenly I was one of the mices, discussing with the rest of the crew about the show and finally we decided to perform, went on stage, and found ourselves alone as the rest of the crew, angered by our behaviour, decided it was their time to refuse to work. Once again behind the scene, once again a discussion where this time I was trying to move them rather than them trying to convice me, and another agreement. Finally, we all walk on stage to perform... and the public is gone.

Now, if you have a gift in interpreting dreams, you can leave a comment.