Subconcscious Dream

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Description

Dream narrative

Vocal Characteristics

Language

English

Voice Age

Middle Aged (35-54)

Accents

North American (General)

Transcript

Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
the subconscious dream. Wow, it was a great day today. It was one of those days where everything went without a hitch. I wish that every day could be like this one. What makes it even better is the familiarity of home. Relax ation pores over me in a welcomed wave. My rooms, the seems it always waas. It is set up in the old familiar way with my posters, all in their correct places, and my penance are all around the walls and ceiling. I try to remember when I had taken the time to do this sort of arrangement, and I get the sense that it was many, many years ago after Roland had to be, because I couldn't imagine having any interest in collecting and displaying this sort of thing. At my age, my bed was dressed, as I had always known it to be, with the tan bed skirt and matching pillows, giving it the appearance more so of a cap. Such a silly idea when I think about it, but it is what it is. Lights were on a tracking rail above the bed, with tilted spots matching tan vertical blinds lined the windows on the same wall. The bed lay adjacent to finally, the wooden dresser that belonged to my father when he was a boy faced the bed, and my red, white and blue carpet lay on the floor in the center of the room with wood panelling represented all that one of the walls in the room, so familiar, perhaps even more so very outdated. How could that be it? Ah, fleeting thought it most, and then right back to it, I hear a Barket. It came from outside a familiar sounding one, but when I couldn't put my finger on, I'm now outside, I must be in search of the sound. I walk through the atrium that leads from the front door and out to the circular portion of the driveway before I reach it. I hear that familiar Bart once more. I paused for a second, feeling a bit uncertain. Do I even have a dog? I know I had one at some point, and certainly more than what? No time to draw relation. I reached the driveway, and it's very dark, no sense of fear. As I am steps away from the house, The uncertain thought crosses my mind about whether or not I am home alone. Then it is gone. As soon as it was born. I seem nothing. I take a few steps toward the side of the house, which I know leads to a straight away of the driveway. After a few more steps, I approach to wooden vengeance within the front landscape that used to look so unique when I first moved to this house, suddenly darting out of the trees adjacent to the benches comes my Afghan hound. Is it him? I feel like I haven't seen him in many years. The dog recognized me immediately and appears to be glad to see me. Something feels advert about this. However, as I look on him with a mixed feeling of happiness and uncertainty, the Afghan makes his way into the trees to perform his dog duty. How odd, indeed, as I begin to recognize that the Afghan never really actually lived in this particular house. He lets out a yelp. I see him cower into a fetal position. I approached him slowly and noticed that his head is being shielded by his body. I gently placed my hand on his head to comfort him he loves his head slightly in response to reveal that his eyes were suddenly an incomprehensible bright green and its face no longer represents that of a dog at all, but something entirely different. He lets out a howling squeal and snaps at me in shocking fashion. I fall back in terror.