I dreamed that Jack and I were driving a bar cart on a golf course. I was driving and he was in the back like you see firemen driving hook and ladder trucks.
We can to a section where the cartpath took a hard turn left and the cart was too long to make the turn. So I had to back up.
And I backed us over the edge of a cliff. We were falling a in a canyon in what seemed like a million miles below.
I kept yelling “Jesus!”, “Jesus!”, “Jesus!”
We kept falling but drifted in the air towards the other side towards a cantina carved into the rocky canyon face.
Jack landed perfectly on the patio at an outdoor table ready to be served.
I jumped and landed on the ledge and then joined him at the table.
