Tina and I had the same, or similar dream at the same time last night. We went to sleep around 1am on February 12 2026. We didn’t have the same dream, but at the same place. We were together according to each of our memories about the dreams. We walked together and enjoyed the place.

Some of the following details are different for each of us. This is my testimony.

In the dream, we were at a tourist kind of place, maybe like Medicine Park (photo link for reference). The place featured a waterfront, rocks, mountains and a boardwalk of some kind. There were shops and restaurants. I remember I was shopping some clothes racks on the boardwalk (I guess in front of some store).

She remembers looking at a mountain. We talked about eating, and I wanted to go scope out a restaurant and see what kind of menu they have. The restaurant was across the way and upstairs with a wood deck balcony with patio seating. I’m not sure what was between, or across what way, maybe a street or parking? Maybe a river? IDK. Like we could see the restaurant from where I was shopping.

I’m not sure how I got upstairs, but I approached the restaurant from the left. A menu was mounted on the wall. I remember reading some concession items like hot dogs and nachos, but also meals like chicken parmigiana and fried catfish platters. I continued right, like I could make a loop from where I thought Tina was, and circle back around to her. I crossed the dining area of the balcony.

There were maybe five tables with chairs and a maybe four people were present. The wood balcony reminded me of this place I have been (photo link for reference). Simple wood deck, rails and balusters. This place in my dream was not this place, but the construction materials in my dream reminded me of it.

So, I came at the restaurant from the left side, moved across the balcony space, and was leaving from the right side. There were maybe four steps down to an elevated connector sidewalk/catwalk that led to a different balcony, same wood materials.

Just before I reached the steps, a man that was sitting there. He said something to me about wanting to see the contents of my pockets. I think I knew he intended to mug me, I said, “I don’t have anything for you,” and continued past him. He swiveled toward me as I neared the steps. He may have been in a wheelchair, or somehow he and the chair swiveled toward me.

He fumbled in the pocket of his shorts. I think he wore beach attire. Baggy shorts a little past his knees. I think a tank top, maybe a t-shirt. He was a kind of fat. His face had a beard painted on, like clown makeup. Just his chin area. Like a white background and stipples of orange or brown that implied a beard. His hair was half-balding or thinning, with wispy pieces of hair moving about as he moved or the wind.

He withdrew a gun from his shorts pocket, and said to me, “do you think this is the kind of gun that has bullets in it?”

I never did stop walking, and I never did pay attention to him. I was on the few steps between balconies when he shot me in the back. The right lumbar region (photo for reference), maybe an inch (or a little more) above my hip bone. If his aim was two inches to the right, he would have missed me completely. I never did stop walking.

I ignored it at first. After a few more steps, I remember thinking “I wonder if there’s any blood on my shirt?” I touched it and found an entry wound, but no exit wound, and thinking “maybe that was that a 22, just a BB sized hole.”

I don’t remember feeling any pain. I woke up, and the dream had ended.