I quit smoking on September 1, 2008. I had this dream shortly thereafter. My house sits almost at the top of a windy, cold mountain. Giant chunky boulders crest the dirt around me like stadium seating. I dreamed I was standing in my living room. A fresh large evergreen had appeared outside my windows. The tree was magnificent standing twenty feet high. The branches seemed sculpted out of frosting and jutted out from the trunk like regal soldiers. After we acquainted, a small wild cat with long gray fur came barreling down the ridge. It launched itself into the air and landed a few feet up the trunk. The cat was scrambling higher as fast as it could go. My question was answered by a huge booming sound. A beast of black and brown muscle came tearing down the hillside. This giant bear, ten feel tall, had grabbed hold of the tree and bent it completely over. Like a green slinky, the tree was resilient along with the feline.
The bear was menacing. His teeth were stained, his fur was matted with dried drops of sweat sparkling as he moved. His fists were giant catchers mitts of rusted steel. He swatted them through the air like hot wet pirate cannons. The bear would fall against the house as he scrambled for a better position on my hillside. My foundation was shaking from the menace. Glass shattered and shelves were toppled. Suddenly, the smell from my fearful breath seemed to catch its attention. It turned its giant cobra neck towards me and swelled as if it had gills. I was completely petrified in its terror. Its eyes were black melting tar oozing out of their sockets. If death had an expression, the bear was wearing it. It barreled up my front steps as wood snapped and splintered like thunder underneath its feet. The next thing I saw were the giant brown fists sweeping away my walls. He was breathing me in one more time for the kill.
I yanked myself out of the dream and landed on my bed sitting up. A dog was perched like a sphinx watching over me. His tail wagged concernedly. His head cocked a bit as he panted.
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