It began rather simply, with me walking down a street at dawn in Minneapolis. I was moving in with somebody in a ramshackle house, and I had gone out to get groceries... there was a strong feeling of it being post-breakup with somebody, but I was rather calm about it. In the dream, I had no real emotion towards whoever it was... there was no face, no name.
And then the fog started rolling in.
It was rather pretty, too. At some point, I stopped to sit by a fountain, and watched the fog roll in and swallow up the streets. At some point, the fountain turned into a bathtub depressed into the sidewalk, and I was bathing in soap-suds and water at the side of the street, watching the fog rise upwards. Then the streets turned into clouds, and I could pass my hand through them and catch bits and pieces of cloudstuff. After a bit, the clouds receded and the streets returned to normal, so I got up from my bath fully clothed and went downtown. By the time I got there, it was evening.
I was walking alone, most of the time. Downtown had become idealized... almost like the archetypes of buildings. Old Art Nouveau buildings with huge iron-and-glass framework doors, brick monstrosities, ultra-modern sky-scrapers. A particularly vivid part has me wandering through the abandoned second level of the art nouveau building, examining the carved marble benches set into the walls.
And then the dream shifted, becoming more plot-oriented and less eye-candy. I arrived at a large hotel with a group of other girls. We were there for a yearly "choosing"... we would be subject to tests and various formalities, and then we would be fired off into space as some sort of traditional offering. (To who or what I wasn't sure.) I wasn't very happy about it, but I don't recall having a choice in the dream.
That's about as much as I remember. Certainly one of the trippiest dreams I've had in a while.