Dreaming a Story

A few minutes before the alarm clock was set to go off, I woke up from a dream more coherent and complicated than what I usually remember. There were two military forts, one low on a hill, and the other, of the opposing side, higher up the hill, or up an outdoor staircase (dream logic here). There was a young man, perhaps a junior officer, at the lower fort, and a young woman (potential romantic interest) at the upper fort; she may have been the daughter of some big shot. The commandants of the two forts would fight if things came to open war, but in the meantime they behaved chivalrously, and the commandant of the upper fort did not kill the young man, or keep him a prisoner, when he was caught somewhere where he should not have been (at least, should not have been from the perspective of the upper fort people).

I dreamed a couple of episodes about these people, and when I woke up, I had a feeling that if I had continued dreaming, I at least might have learned more about the actions of these people, and would have witnessed a complete story, instead of just a couple of incomplete minor adventures. I don’t know whether a longer dream would really have been coherent and satisfying, but I did have a feeling of having missed a full story.