Dream journal 12
A hotel room, alone. Somehow I know that someone has died here, I believe someone who is close to someone I know. I don't believe it was someone particularly close to me. There is a familiar bed in the middle of the room, and a small piano. To the side, curtains are along the wall. The curtains begin to furl outward, almost like a parachute, until they are above me and enclosing me. There is a woman there, dressed in a red suit and hat. She is silently weeping and at the same time obviously frightened. I realize she is the daughter of the person who died and I attempt to comfort and reassure her, though I feel as terrified as she appears to feel. She is stiff and unresponsive as I hug her.