What My Typical Lucid Dreams Are Like

(Dreamt on 6 May 2010 -- slightly edited to remove embarassing sexy bits)

I’m a time traveler, like Doctor Who. But instead of being called the Doctor, everyone calls me the Lady.

I’ve arrived during the Roman Empire – in an alternate universe. In this universe, the Roman Empire conquered part of North America. They have subdued the tribes. These natives look like a cross between modern Celts and Native Americans. They wear feathers, kilts, baggy berets and clothes that feel rough.

In the Roman city, there is a great corral where all of the prisoners’ horses are kept.

One of the Roman guards is named Peter. He seems familiar. He has pinkish-white skin, a husky build, plump cheeks, a bull neck, silver-white receding hair and brilliantly blue eyes. I’m become quite fond of this friendly, yet somber fellow, who takes a liking to the natives, even though he guards some of their horses.

But the other Roman guards do not like Peter.



In the city where the prisoners’ horses are kept is a great sword sticking out of a rock. Since I come from the future, I know that whoever pulls the sword from the stone will be made king of the Romans. I also know the trick to freeing the sword from the stone, which works like a Chinese puzzle-box.

When no one is around, I easily slide the sword out, and then stick it back in place. Now I want to bring Peter to the sword and show him the trick so he can be ruler of the Romans.

I go to Peter’s usual post. I notice that his horse is in the corral. This is a bad sign. Peter’s horse leans against the fence, looking at where his master would be standing if he were on duty. But there is another guard on duty. I try to comfort the horse, but he ignores me, although he briefly lets me stroke his neck.

The guard on duty is tall and muscular like a rugby player. He wears a breastplate, feathers and carries a tomahawk in his belt and leans on a broadsword. He laughs at me, taunting, “You’ll never see your friend again!”

I go the river of swift black water, where a modern metal bridge with floodgates rests. This bridge is familiar to me, and then I remember where I’ve seen it before – by the River Avon in the city of Bath during the 20th century. Because the bridge is so out of place, I become lucid and remember who Peter is.

As I walk down to the riverbank, Peter’s head pops out of the water. “I never thought one day I’d have to live in the sea,” he grumbles.

Before I can correct him (this is a river, not a sea.) He says, “Lady, here’s our chance. Let’s escape in the water.” He tells me about living in the sea, which is the only safe place he can hide from his enemies.

I certainly would love to play with him in the water, but somehow I never fully realize that this is only a dream. Unlike in other lucid dreams, Peter seems to be stubbornly keeping to the dream’s storyline, even though he knows that I know it’s only a dream. I play along. I tell him about the sword and convince him to come back on land.

Peter needs to lean on me getting out of the water and getting his legs under him. He walks like an old John Wayne.

We discover a discarded long sword. Even though the sword should be incredibly heavy, it’s as light as a stage prop and I can wield it easily with one hand.

We arrive at a modern pub with outside tables. One table without any customers has a large glass of cola with a straw. Peter stumbles to the table and drinks deeply. I hadn’t realized how parched he was, despite living in the sea.

The pub’s owner rushes out of the pub, demanding payment. I place the sword-tip to his throat and say, “Leave him alone.”

Peter and I walk a long way to the sword in the stone. There’s a demon in our path. Although everyone else is terrified of it, I remember that it’s only a dream-demon and harmless. I point my sword at it. The demon dissolves into a fine red mist and the sword sucks it up like a straw.

“Fancy that,” said Peter.

Then Peter’s enemies arrive. I point the sword at them and unleash the demon. We are then free to get to the sword in the stone.

While Peter slides the sword from the stone, I look around at the strange building housing the sword and the stone. One wall is a large shelving unit full of food. Food placed there is consecrated to the gods. Legend says if anyone eats this food, they will die a living death.

Starving natives are watching us. I pick up a piece of carrot cake on the shelf and take a bite. A red-haired bearded man watches and asks if he could have some cake, too. I give him a huge piece of cake and tell him that there is no curse on this food.

That’s when I wake up.