I very rarely remember my dreams. That is, it seems to me that I do not see them at all. But since people always see dreams, it's right to say that when I wake up, I do not remember my dream at all. But when I wake up and remember my dream, it seems that this is a story with the film.
So, let's begin.
Circumstances develop on my native street. People are absolutely real.
The sun has almost disappeared beyond the horizon, at first glance it may seem that this is a sumptuous evening. But the advent of darkness portends fear, pain and the likelihood of death.
I, my brother and the best friend of my childhood, took up the repair of the fans on the pillars that night. We found two long stairs in the neighbor, one took the best friend and went to the other end of the street, and we took another ladder from our brother. We needed to fix as many lanterns as they killed them. But the sun almost disappeared from view, and already there were shouts. They were zombies. I had no time ...
We need to hide. But before I could get down the stairs, they already attacked my brother. It gave me a few seconds, and then I was able to help my brother escape.
We ran to our house. But I barely had time. Zombies grew more and more. Next to the front door was a shotgun. While my brother opened the door, I shot zombies :) Now my brother is in the house, I'm behind him, but one zombie does not allow you to close the door, from a shotgun shot, an inflatable ball. Brother pushed the body and closed the door.
And then I woke up.
This is one of the stories about my dreams.