An account

This dream has nothing to do with Damascus. I dreamt it four nights ago, on the morning of the 5th, so it might be inaccurate by now. Weird, I seem to remember a dream every 9 days, but maybe that will change. We were told to be prepared. Prepared that is, for a haunted house of some sort, that had been very scary to its previous visitors. It was a building created sometime in the late eighteenth century, sometime around 1770. We prepared to descend into the narrow steps. I was in a group of about a dozen or more people. It was somewhat dark in the room, but there was a bright light from nowhere. Somewhat resembled one of my friends' houses' basements, but that must have been a facade of the actual memory, because it really was not like that at all. A picture of someone hung on the room, and it was frightening to enter and to look at--the picture resembled <PERSON>, but that must be yet another facade. As we entered, we expected everything from spooky noises to whatever you expect from ghosts. But a few seconds in, I discovered it was not scary at all. The entire dream fragment lasted maybe one or two minutes, and yet few of the details are still remembered. As I woke up, it was morning, and my family was talking very loudly about a now-familiar topic: ghosts.