Dream of: 09 January 2019 "Life After Death"

 I seem to be in Europe where I am sitting outside at a round table with a couple elegant-looking men. I know the black-haired man (around 50 years old) who is sitting across from me. I traveled here with him. He has a goatee and mustache. The other man is sitting on my right at the round table. I know that these men come here with others sometimes and have discussions. We sit silently. I am unsure what to say at first to open a discussion. I think a possible topic may be the question of whether there is life after death. That seems to me to be a worthwhile topic to discuss, instead of ordinary junk. No one says anything and we continue to sit in silence until the fellow on my right finally stands and announces that he is leaving.

I look at the fellow across from me who is still sitting at the table and think about how I traveled here with him. He has a brother who shows up and stands by the table. I ask the fellow across from me where he was born. The man and his brother both look at me as if this is a topic of some importance, although I am unsure that they are going to answer me. I ask the fellow if he was born here in Germany. As soon as I say "here in Germany," however, I realize that we are not in Germany, but that we are actually in Paris. I have memories of the fellow and I arriving in Paris, and I remember that we are going to be here together for a while. Whether he was actually born here in Paris, or whether he was born somewhere else, seems to be a subject of some importance.

My perspective of the scene changes and I now seem to be up above the table and looking down. The fellow who had been sitting across from me is now standing next to a little street cart with items for sale. Several rockets hit and explode near him. I realize that someone from somewhere is shooting rockets at him. The rockets explode and flash more like fireworks than like rockets. I think if one of the rockets hits him, he will clearly be severely injured or killed. I want him to leave, but he just stands there.

With his back against the cart, he turns around and faces the area from which the rockets are coming. I do not know why he does not leave. Watching him stand there amid the exploding rockets is nerve-wracking. All the rockets are exploding to his left. I think if whoever is firing the rockets would adjust their sights just a little bit, the rockets would hit and severely injure or kill the man who seems determined to stand there and face the rockets.

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