Bad Dream 26 -- Morning of 1/19/19

In my dream, I am in some kind of building getting ready for a performance.  I'm to be juggling, but other folks are also part of the show.  They and I are milling around, trying to feel ready for the performance.

I know we'll suck.

We perform perfectly okay for certain types of audiences, but today's gig doesn't look at all promising.  I'm not sure whether the other performers simply don't know this yet or whether they have the same feeling I do and are putting up a brave face.  Either one is fine.  We're going to do this gig and do it as best we can.  

I decide I need to "warm up" my juggling, so I head to the basement -- just to be away from my fellow performers.  At the top of the stairs to the basement, I notice that the handrail is completely broken, with most of it disconnected from its support frame and leaning against the stairs themselves.  

As I walk carefully down the stairs , I remember that the ceiling height is maybe eight feet -- certainly not suitable for juggling practice.  I am now in the basement proper, where there is an immense hole in the shape of two adjoining rectangles.  Maybe ten feet on a side and four or five feet deep.  My Dad is standing in the hole, holding a shovel.  He's wearing an undershirt and I understand he's been doing a lot of this digging.  I understand that this basement is the basement of the house I grew up in in Baltimore.  I want to ask him what's going on, but don't get the chance.  

At the bottom of the hole, I see the head of one of my younger brothers -- but I can't tell if it's Warren or David.  The rest of his body is buried -- he's up to his neck in dirt.  He doesn't seem terribly perturbed about this situation, and asks a question, the nature of which I can't discern.  Dad takes his shovel and pulls dirt over the head of my younger sibling.  He seems a little annoyed as he does this -- but that's his only emotion.  

I ask my Dad: "What do we do next?"  And he motions across the room and says: "Ask him over there."  I look in the direction he's pointing.  Most of the man's anatomy is hidden behind a pillar that's holding up the building over the basement floor.  The only part I can see of the man over there is his hands, which are moving in a circular manner, rather as if he were churning a bicycle crank with handles rather than pedals.  He doesn't acknowledge that he's been mentioned.  He just keeps cranking away.