Last night I had a very intense dream. Here is the strange part, I went to bed around 11 then woke up right as it was turning 1am. I thought you had to have 4 hours of sleep to complete a REM cycle.
It was in the house I grew up in, the one out in the middle of nowhere. I dream about this house more than any other place I've lived. We lived there from my birth until I entered the 6th grade.
The dream: I can hear something strange outside, something very not right. I spend a few good moments steeling myself up to crack the blinds and look out. That was always something that frightened and compelled me growing up and to this day. You don't want to look out a window where there's no one for miles and end up seeing something you really didn't want to.
I've crawled up on my parents bed and am much younger than I am now. There are large ships filling the sky. Round with turbines that I can see spinning. I don't know what to do, so I see my parents bed and my brother is already laying by my mom, and I reluctantly take up the space by my dad. I lay there wondering if this is such a good idea. Maybe the aliens know about our fear behaviors and know that we'll huddle, making abduction much simpler.
I'm always having spaceship dreams about that old house. One I just remembered was looking out the window that I saw my first real tornado from. Outside a sleek sliver spaceship zooms past. I'm enthralled and apparently I know the make and model of this particular ship and am very happy to see it.
I guess this is just what happens when you mix an early love of science fiction, astronomy and living where there's nothing but horizon for miles.