Last night I dreamed I came home to a house very similar to the one in which I’m currently living but it was near the main street of a little nice town that looked a lot like Naples, Florida. It was late in the evening. I could see that my front windows had been broken and I walked hesitantly through the garden and unlocked the door only to find that every one of my possessions had been destroyed or damaged in some way. My dining table had been smashed, all my books burned, other furniture smashed, bullet holes everywhere. Nothing was stolen, everything was simply destroyed.
I could hear someone coming up the pathway and when I saw him he was holding a gun. For some reason I expected this but knew he had nothing to do with the house. We fought and I managed to strangle him. I ran back into my bedroom and got my own gun and crouched in the corner looking out all the exits at the same time. There I remained, squatting, waiting, knowing whatever it was that destroyed my house will come back. I woke up quite early with a splitting headache, stomach troubles, and three terrible rashes. Dreams of this nature have been going on all week.