Passing through a convince store, and out the other side into the night air.

I'm walking, or trying to along the side-walk with a co-worker I had years ago. She and I are joking around, intentionally bumping into each other, flirting. It's a nice re-channelling of memories I had, but they're gone. The night air remains.

I'm with two current friends outside - a guy and a girl. We're all thirsty, and start trying to find some house that will give us water. No ones around - the houses sit empty and dark.
We go though various houses, and I stop to look at book cases and books that have never existed. As I walk though the empty aparments and houses, I see the detritus of other peoples lives. There's a set of cups floating in a bucket, but no drinkable water.

The guy hears TV noise in a far room, and I'm nervous. He enters, and quickly re-emerges to explain that we need to leave. We descend the ladder leading to this loft area, and rush toward the front door. We're not suppose to be here.

An older Korean woman is walking up the front lawn, emotionless. She grabs me  as I leave (her) house, and won't let go. I struggle to break free, and realize if I do, I can continue to dream. She squeezes me, and I awake.

There's a threatening presence outside, across the street, and I'm in the parlour room of an old home. There's a shallow grave dug though the floorboards, straight down with a woman laying in it. 

She was alive recently, but became infected or posessed by something. There's a crowd of people in the room, mostly scared farmers or rural middle-aged looking people.

To prevent the body from getting up, someone fires a nailgun though the woman's head. However, it starts verbalizing.

Someone calmly explains it's rediscovering basic vocal structures found in all vertebrates. I realize there's something in this woman that's colonizing her body. It moves on to making ape-like noises, but no real words yet. The limbs are twitching.

The presence outside wants this thing destroyed, but the people inside are fearfully protecting it. I realize the man who spoke with me earlier wasn't himself - he was some kind of colonized body puppeting a person. He has an unfocused look in his eyes.

The woman rises, nail still though her head and starts frosting the glass windows. If the presence outside can't see in, I'm told, it will delay it's attack.

The parlour room is attached to my grandparent's house. I walk past the side door, and trigger something's attack. Sheer terror as the house shakes with wind, screams, and rapid gunfire. I hide beside the doorway, and then crawl toward my old room, seeking a place to hide.

It's daytime, and people from earlier in the dream are gone. Someone whose my grandmother, but not my grandmother is cooking breakfast in the kitchen. I'm sitting in the carpeted hallway, trying to attach a hexagonal lid to a jar of chocolate peanut butter. 

There's still a grave dug through the living room floor though.

Dancing a waltz with ex-girlfriend. She doesn't look very well.

 At first, I'm confused: and I haven't seen her in many years, and there's no music playing. I have one arm around her upper shoulder, and cupping the back of her neck, under her red hair. This is how I realize she's actually dead - the scalp feels like it's separating from the back of her skull. 

I'm filled with terror, and fear that if I stop dancing with the resurrected corpse, she'll kill me. 

 Our soundless waltz continues as dusty floorboards of the house creak.

I'm standing outside a red brick building on a cloudy day, photographing the sky. Something isn't right.

I alternate between using my camera and my phone, because I can't make sense of what I'm seeing in the photographs: The clouds seem to drift from the horizon, then curl back at a higher altitude like a wave. There are things on the underside of the clouds. Squares, of some kind.

I enlarge the images on my phone, and see that they're tents - canvas squares anchored down. Others are beds, upside down, and high above me - anchored to the clouds.

A rising panic swells inside me. I can't make sense of this. I rush inside to a computer, and open up a memory card on screen. Something is wrong - something or someone doesn't want these images viewed or spread: the icons and filenames of each photograph begin of dissolve into multicolored static. I try to disconnect the drive from the computer, but the drive has smoke pouring out of it already.

Something is living in the clouds, and doesn't want to be found.