Dream #21

I'm going to tell you about the day I died in my dreams and woke up in the morning to tell the tale.  I was driving through the desert.  Beautiful sunny day. Heat radiated off the sand - that mirage type heat in it's heat-mirage-y way.  I was speeding down a curvy highway and in typical Wiley Coyote fashion, I drove straight off a cliff, 6 feet past the edge, and dropped straight down and exploded in a fiery crash.  I watched it all happen like a movie. Next thing I knew I was walking back toward my ranch. I walked into the farmhouse and tried to tell my friend about my day but she looked straight through me.  I tried to pet my cat, but my hand went right through him.  I was a fucking ghost! So I went into my bedroom and stared at my bed.  I couldn't lie down so I just took my left hand and hit my bed but it took a bit of time for my hand to go through.  So I tried it again and it took a little  longer and I felt a little bit more.  I did it one more time and my hand was practically solid.  And the last time my hand stopped at my blanket and couldn't go through.  Then I woke up relieved to have disproved the idea that if you die in your sleep you die in real life.