Not that there was that much to it. Interestingly (I hope), I think that's the way the dream happened. In other words, it isn't that I'm not remembering much of the dream, but that there wasn't much dream to remember. I was a detective; my partner was a Chinese fellow. I was able to clear a bunch of young people (think the kids from "Fame," more or less) of underage singing and dancing. This is odd, of course, and not the usual thing I would expect as a result of sleep-listening to "Inner Sanctum Mysteries." What's odder is how happy it made me. I was beside myself.
The Chinese fellow was less thrilled. Or anyway unenthusiastic. Then I had a different Chinese partner, whose name I somehow inferred from-- nothing, really. This made me extremely happy, too. It's a bewilderment to me. I guess my brain just figured (correctly) that I needed a little gratuitous happiness about now. But such peculiar things to be happy about!
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