“What does the ice cream represent?”, she asked. “Blessings and good fortune”, I answered.
This was met with a skeptical gaze. “I think you misinterpret my dreams. That’s why I don’t like telling them to you.”
In the dream, Hope had silvery white hair and was in some sort of ski village, in an ice cream shop. She got to the front of a very long line and was greeted with a less-than-friendly ice cream-scoop-wielding sales clerk. “What would you like?”, she asked my sister. Hope asked for a flavor and the girl behind the counter began to scoop ice cream into a cone. Scoop after scoop, my sister says to her, “I don’t need that much.” The girl behind the counter retorts with a smirk and hands Hope her tower of ice cream. As she heads towards the exit, the ice cream begins to fall off the cone. Standing at the threshold of the ice cream shop, Hope takes a look behind her, back at the long line. She knows that she doesn’t want to wait in line again for more and so she takes a step outside. There, the rest of the ice cream, melting already, falls off the cone onto the ground at her feet.
Now, I have a different interpretation of the Dream, and it’s much more sinister than blessings and good fortune. This scares me but I don’t know, knowing what I do now, how else to interpret it.
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