In the dream I'm talking to my father - a common dream occurance recently - and I'm asking him questions about the street preacher Holy Hubert Lindsey who told my father he was going to hell for two drug-dealing years before my father's conversion. I want to write about my conflictions about the wild evangelicalistic street preacher and I was trying to find out what caliber of gun Hubert was shot with when my father saw him shot at point blank range only to be healed on the way to the hospital, bail out and pray with his attacker, returning to the streets to continue preaching.
And then Hubert was there, in my dream.
"Wait," I said. "Are you the real Holy Hubert?"
"No," he said, "I'm the Holy Hubert in your dream."
"Okay. Was it a .38? I seem to remember it was a .38."