Bizarre Memories That Just Had To Be Shared

Wild Gunman

I am maybe 4 years old. I follow my sister up the outside stairs of our apartment building to where a man is sitting on the top step. He is cleaning a handgun and I don’t know him, so I am afraid. My sister chatters away about the gun. “How does it work? What’s that part for? Can I hold it?”

I’m frozen– I want to not be here, but I don’t know what to do. I have to wait for my sister, she’s the oldest, she should know. The man gets up, puts the gun inside his jacket, and looks at me.

That’s all I remember. I have no idea if this happened or if it was a dream, but the memory doesn’t feel like a dream. My sister doesn’t remember it at all, so…it must have been a dream, right?

SuzQP