SO ODD, SO VIVID

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Do you have vivid dreams? I sure do. I don't have them every night, but they come in waves. Wild, colorful, crazy waves loaded with details. A bit light on plot sometimes, however. But, oh, the details.
One recent one I had was about some house out in the boonies, flanking a highway and a huge meadow. It came fully furnished, with loads of knicknacks and tchotchkes. A house full of things. And memories. And it was pulling me in, wanting me there, slowly pushing the asking price down to get me to bite. I was tempted.
As dream logic goes, it was a haunted place, with generations of ghosts populating the spot. They were outside, and in the portraits on the wall, and lingering on vases and curtains and more.
It was fascinating and I can't even provide all the details. It was simply too chock-full.  
My husband was around. Somewhere. Maybe at work.
My mother was there, but not a ghost, I don't think. Some boyfriend of hers was too. He collected ghosts, it seemed. But it was also Halloween, and we waited for trick-or-treaters. They would come, at dusk. But every time dusk drew near, time skipped and soon we'd be waiting, again, for darkness to land. 
It kind of tapered off from there, except I knew I was meant to be there. Not as a ghost, but a person. I had some purpose there, some kind of connection to the place and its haunting inhabitants. I wasn't afraid, but I knew they wanted me and somehow I wanted them. I felt like we could work well together. Whether I would be there to manage the place, to help finish some unresolved issues, or if I were just a roommate they wouldn't mind having, I can't be sure.
But I've been thinking of the dream for days, savoring its intricate details, wondering how I could turn it into a book. 

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