Hundreds of us stood in a huge building with a domed-shaped ceiling. It felt like a way-station or a train station. All of us who were being ushered into two lines stood in a state of shock and panic, many of us not knowing what the lines meant.
I knew that I was in the "good" line, but as I looked over to the "bad" line, the one that was sure to be torturous for anybody standing in it, I saw my father.
He didn't know what lay ahead of him and as I called out to him, I realized he couldn't hear me. I kept calling him and calling him, hoping he would hear my desperate pleas across the large room, but he kept walking.
Finally I ran over to him and grabbed his arm. I told him he was in the wrong line and that he had to follow me. We ran over to the good line together. And that's all that I can remember.
The interesting part about this dream is that I saw that domed-type structure in a documentary on the Holocaust years after I had the dream. The feeling I experienced as I saw the exact structure from my dream on that television documentary threw my body into a state of shock.
All I could do was stare at the screen and wonder how I could possibly have seen the details of that building in a dream without ever having visited it in person.
Was it a train station? Could it have been a past life?
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