I'm in Anacortes. There are cops everywhere.
There are three cops dealing with me specifically regarding a boat.
I'm looking at (or thinking about) the boat. I'm looking at the main cabin door. It's slatted like window shutters. Dry, ocean-aged wood that looks like at one time it may have been a glossy oak. There is a round "porthole" window at eye level. The window is framed with shiny gold (or brass) metal and the sun is reflecting and making me squint my right eye.
The exterior of the boat is mainly white with evergreen colored trim and gold fixtures.
Inside the boat the walls are painted glossy white slats. Vertical lines from floor to about belly button height. Above the white wood, the walls are an eggshell finished navy blue. The contrasting colors are very "nautical".
There is a kitchen about 8 feet from the entryway on the right. The cabinets and walls and floor are a glossy maple.
There are three middle aged women (chin-length bobs, "cheater" glasses) seated against the wall. I sit across from them.
There is a white ceramic bowl in front of me with some almost melted vanilla ice cream. I'm tipping the bowl towards my chest and scooping the last few drops onto my cold spoon. I put the spoon in my mouth and I can taste both the ice cream and the metal.
There is a woman standing to my left, beside the table. She is short (5'2" or so), she has copper colored skin and long black, dry hair.
She is wearing a teal men's tee shirt over her bra-less, cone-shaped breasts. She has wrinkled, khaki shorts that are hemmed about a quarter inch above her lumpy, almond colored knees. She has ratty white tennis shoes that look like they've seen a beach hike or two. There is tropical colored sand crusted around the sole.
Around three sides of the table there is a dark cherry wood wall. It has the three girls trapped in the small enclosure. The only escape would be for them to climb under the table or over one another.
The wall on my left can be moved. It slides easily open like a large wooden door. Kind of like a hidden bookcase pathway.
There are six non-descriminate women sitting across from me now. They are crammed on the small bench seat against the moveable wall, which has been closed tightly
The little copper-colored woman is standing alone on the other side of the wall. She's facing it, raising herself onto her toes to try and look over it.
There is a lot of commotion going on behind me. The house boat starts to change. I'm still seated at the table but when I turn around I see the far wall of the kitchen is now gone and a busy sidewalk is visible. Slanted slightly downhill from left to right, the kind of hill that makes your feet "clomp" when you walk down it. It reminds me of a small section of street that leads up to the revetment beside the Skagit River in Mount Vernon.
The sidewalk is covered and there are unique wooden signs hung on delicate gold-colored chains. The signs are carved and painted by hand. They swing casually in the light, warm breeze.
The sidewalk reminds me of downtown Mount Vernon between I-5 and the revetment.
I'm walking up the hill now and the windows are on my right. It is sunny and there is only a slight wind, just enough to rustle a tee shirt sleeve.
No one talks in the dream. There is just a lot a confusion and chaos.
I am speeding in a car (reminds me of my old Honda Accord ) towards the round-a-bout in Anacortes. I think I'm traveling too fast to complete the 180 degree left turn and I tense up as I begin rotating the wheel.
I make it! I"m on Highway 20 headed out of town.
Then I wake up.