I dreampt last night I was walking home and on the next street, which was in Berkeley CA, there was an Asian Family that had rigged up parking forklifts onto a sycamore tree (though eucalyptus would make more sense). Where everyone was circling the block looking for a spot they just hoisted their cars into a tree.
Then I dreampt that my father called me to tell me my mother had died. I weapt in short staccato bursts. I asked him how she passed and realized that he lives in Minnesota and she’s in Rhode Island. Hurm, thought I: “how do you know this dad?” I asked.
“She had moved to North Dakota…” he started to reply, and I knew it was all a bad dream, and woke.