Last night, I dreamt that I was at a cocktail party at an embassy. I was wearing a clingy black dress with a high side slit and all the men at the party kept coming over to talk to me. What they didn’t suspect is that I was actually a spy and that I was wearing a garter that held a small dagger. I was in the embassy to find and steal some files but I was a little bit worried about moving too fast because I was scared of accidentally stabbing myself with the dagger.
An older man who was wearing bar-rimmed glasses kept telling me about all of the different countries to which he had served as ambassador. He wanted to know if I had ever been to France because that was going to be his next posting. I said a few words in French and chuckled. He replied by saying, “La Magnificent!” and I replied that he wasn’t speaking French.
Eventually, I told the men that I had to step out for a minute but I promised them that I would soon return. I stepped through a door and I found myself in the embassy’s kitchen, where a cook was baking bread. He looked shocked to see me. I held my finger to my lips and went, “Shhhhhh.” He nodded.
Then, I was on the roof of the embassy, watching a helicopter approach from the distance.