So it's flooding and I'm in a canoe and I'm paddling by hand. I'm lost. I'm scared. There's a flood and it's rising and I'm tossed about with no control of where I'm heading. I see this man and he says he's gonna help. He starts walking and pulling my canoe and he starts pulling the canoe down, but he's above water. He must be 10 feet tall. The canoe starts to fill and my head goes under. I open my eyes and I can see under the water: plants, weeds, the water is somewhat murky. I'm afraid of what else may be in there. Somehow I break the man's grasp on my canoe and it starts to float again.

Then I'm in this room with glass walls, glass windows, a glass door. There is a short hallway and at the end I see another glass wall and door. The flood waters are coming, the water is quickly higher than the door at the end of the hallway. It begins to shake. There is water leaking into the hallway and into the room I'm in. There's another person in the room with me. It's a man, but I don't know who it is or why he's there. We've put everything up high and out of the inch or so of water on the floor. We shove towels up against the crack at the bottom of the door to slow down the water that is seeping in. There is only one way out. We're trapped.

In the hallway I see a wooden bookshelf. My Daddy's trumpet is on the bottom shelf. There's nothing else on the bookshelf. The water hasn't reached Daddy's trumpet yet. I tell the man in the room with me that I need to save Daddy's trumpet. It's all I have left of him. He tells me not to go because the door could fly open any minute and the flood waters will rush in and rush me away with them. It isn't worth my life he says. I can't stop myself. I open our door and rush out into the hallway anyway to retrieve the trumpet.

I rescue it and run back to safety, what little safety there is, and just as I close the door behind me the hall door bursts opens and the water gushes. The man in the room with me blocks our door to help prevent it from opening to the flood waters.

It works.

The flood freely flows into the hallway and down the corridor out the other end. It lasts for only a few seconds. Then the water is all gone. The flood is gone. And I'm in the glass room alone.

Then I wake up.

And just now as I've finished typing this out and read it through I realize that the man in the room with me was my Daddy, and I didn't recognize him. Oh God, what's wrong with me? It's all too metaphorical and it hurts.