Ruined Cake

Last night I dreamt I was to prepare a cake for a large party of my friends and colleagues. Except instead of making a delightful cake, I made one with the horrifying visage of a man. Realizing my mistake, I decided to smash the cake with my fists, deciding it was better to be seen by people as someone so incompetent that he could not even make a decent cake, rather being seen as a person who would make a cake with such frightening imagery. And then I woke up.

Death Before Dishonor

Last night I dreamt that I was in a military plane surrounded by my squadron. We were going to crash-land right in the heart of enemy territory, and we knew that we were instantly going to be captured and tortured for information. Rather than face that grim prospect, we decided to choose death. We had only one pistol remaining with ammunition, and there were not enough bullets for all of us. A very Michelle Rodriguez-type Marine volunteered to be the one survivor.

We passed the gun around, each person taking it out of the hands of the person who had just used it. As I picked up the gun, I noted how small the hole in the barrel looked. I pressed the barrel to my chin and pulled the trigger. I felt the bullet travel up through my head and into my brain and then...there was nothing. Except it wasn't really nothing, because I was thinking, "There is nothing." "Is this what death is?" I thought. Then I realized: "No, it's not. Because this is a dream." And then I woke up.