I just woke up from a beautiful dream. It took place in a dusty, creeky, old antique store. It was one of those antique stores that is filled to capacity with everything under the sun: chairs, tables, old records, funny old dresses, masks, strange little figurines... I remember being fascinated by the old walls of the shop. They were dirty, old, deep-dark gray, crumbling wood walls. There was a feeling that at any time the walls would collapse, and all these magical antiques would fall over and pile up over me – but that never happen. I just kept creeping around the shop, picking out things to look at. There was a tall ivory painted dresser. Each compartment of the dresser had exotic porcelain figurines in it. There was a sleeping dog figurine - A funny little basket of flowers - A woman's hand. I blew the dust off of these objects and examined them carefully. I would hold them up above my head, and turn them around carefully in the rays of sunlight that seeped in through the old gray walls. Then I'd carefully put them back. These figurines would give me such a wondrous feeling inside; like I'd just inherited their histories. Then I noticed a set of stairs down into the basement. I made my way down into this new cluttered, even darker, older space. It was mainly full of old dresses. They were so funny looking. They had paisley and floral patterns on them, were trimmed with lace, and they all had really high collars. The dust was so thick. I kept blowing the dust off of everything. I'd watch the dust fly into the air and swirl elegantly back down onto everything around me. It was a lovely dream.