I just had one of my own, and it was very enjoyable.
I dreamt that I was inside a computer game (I don't game very much) and that I knew it was a game, so the dream was at least partly a lucid dream.
I completed the first level, which was fairly simple, so simple nothing stuck in my head to recall now, and went outside to push on a lever rising from the earth to progress on to the second level. The transition happened, and I was standing by the same lever in the second level, in some kind of swamp, knowing the lever wouldn't work for me again until I completed the level. So I memorised where it was and wandered around the swamp, looking for stuff to do. There was absolutely nothing to do, no objects to pick up or characters to talk to, and I came back to the lever thinking that this couldn't be all of the second level, there had to be something to do.
Then I noticed a jetty in the reeds not far away, and wondered how I could have missed it. It led away from the swamp to open lake-water, and visible in the distance was the far shore or an island. I started walking along the jetty, but the wood was rotten, and as I got further and further along, more and more of the timber of the jetty fell into the lake. Eventually I scuttled back, knowing I had to get there and wondering how, and I found that at the point where I started there was now a boat.
There were two more people on their own computers playing the same game at the same time, and they joined me now in the boat. I think I was up the back working the tiller as they rowed. In the boat, we discussed being a team to pool resources and ideas. We got to the island, and a large mansion loomed over us, right where we left the boat. Someone rang the bell - the door stayed shut. I pushed at the door - it swung open.
We went into the foyer, a long, wide corridor lined with wood panels, and with rows of evenly-spaced closed doors down each side. As a group, we spontaneously elected to go into the first door on our left. The bare-floored room was full of old-fashioned office furniture in a dark-brown, unidentifiable wood. Long, broad desks. Elegant timber filing cabinets. Racks of squared-off pigeon-holes suitable for mail. Racks of wide, thin pigeon-holes, suitable for unfolded full-size sheets.
And every drawer, every shelf, every pigeon-hole utterly, utterly empty. I spent a bit of time wandering around touching and admiring the furniture, wishing like heck I could take it out of the game and out of my dream and put it in my home, but there came a point where enough was enough, and it was time to find something to *do*. I told the others there was nothing there and we should move onto the next room but they demured, and decided to stay there and keep searching.
So alone I crossed the hall and went into the room opposite which would have been to our right when we first entered. It was thickly carpeted in soft, springy brown wool. Like the other room, it had high ceilings and large windows divided up by a wooden lattice into many small panes, casting good light around the room. There was an overstuffed Queen Anne sofa somewhere centre-stage, and I just knew it was authentic. Its upholstery was in a dark mustard-yellow shot with gold. There were other pieces around, too, that smacked of drawing room, but I didn't really pay attention to them. The whole room was in soft, dark yellows, tans and browns.
I found a desk against the wall, a smaller one with a roll-top, and I opened the roll-top. Lined up on the inner shelf were five or six Tarot decks all bagged up in tapestry bags in colours matching the rest of the room, most of them with gold or silver thread in them and all of them with a cord closure. One in particular, in a patchwork bag made entirely of triangles of fabric in the colours of the room, really drew me.
But there were other things on the table. There was odd-looking money, and I knew I'd need money later in the game to buy the things that would help me get ahead. I pocketed the money. There was a little silver handle like the handle of a coffee-grinder or something, decorated with silver rosebuds. I pocketed it, too, knowing I would have to use it later for some kind of machine to advance in the game. One by one I went through the objects on the desk, and selected things that I knew would advance me later in the game.
Eventually I was done, and there was just a row of bagged Tarot decks. I went to pick up the one on the far right, the triangle-bag, and found I was physically prevented by the game, which wanted me to take one of the other objects out of my pocket in order to be able to pick up the deck and look at it. Damn you, game! I was just debating which of my acquisitions to discard so that I could look at the deck, when my alarm-clock rang and called me back to my body.
What shocking timing.
When I was younger, I sometimes used to be able to re-enter an incomplete dream after waking in the middle of it. Somehow I doubt that I'll be able to do that, after a day of other things and other thoughts.
