Maybe it’s coincidental that tomorrow is November 22, but last night I dreamed I visited Dealey Plaza. It was empty and barren. Not a single person was out on the streets. Weeds were poking up between cracks in the sidewalks and roads. A corner store was all boarded up. I walked down to the grassy knoll and looked ahead at the underpass tunnel. There was a plaque commemorating JFK that was all shiny and bright. I wanted to go into the book depository, but it now had a huge modern manufacturing plant attached to it where they manufactured… playing cards!
So, I wound my way through the factory and made it to the old depository building and to the infamous window, except it was on the second floor and resembled a balcony with a wrought iron railing. I noticed scattered cigarette butts and deduced that these were likely Oswald’s. I found myself firing an imaginary gun and thinking “yeah, that wouldn’t be too difficult of a shot for a marksman.”
Then I discovered something else. I found a pouch on the ground and unzipped it. Inside was another pouch. This went on for 5 or 6 pouches until I came across a cell phone at the centre. I powered up the cell phone and the name L.H. Oswald came up on the display.
Then I woke up thinking, “Wow, that was weird.”