The Yellow Children, ghostly, haunting apparatitions who called out in silent siren song to grieving mothers, lonely parents, anyone who might stray to close to their infernal call.

I drempt I was trying to protect people, keeping them inside and away from the Yellow Children, as people kept going towards them, and they kept trying to get into the place we were.

As the Yellow Children touched a person, the person would fad away into nothingness, swallowed whole by an evil hunger that would never be satiated.

The Children were pale yellow, zombielike with glassy solid off-white eyes in sunken sockets.

People succumbed left and right, and finally, I just had to flee from them, not knowing where to run.

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I was in a huge stationary store, looking for glow-in-the-dark items . I wandered asile after asile, through rows of white-out, rulers and flowchart templates. I had no idea what I wanted the glow-in-the-dark items for, but I wanted them.

I think I found some paper, and that was about it. I was very disappointed.

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There was a convention of sorts, with a musical group playing for a dance being held there. I don't know why I knew it was a convention, or what convention it was, or how that had any relavance to the dream.

Off to the side, was one musician by himself with a guitar, who was mic'd all alone, and standing in the midst of some giant mechanical contraption, with hand cranks, heavy steel dials and indcators, and old time vacuum tube like light bulbs.

He explained what the device was for, and it involved showing a cartoon on a screen in the machine of a high altitude biplane dropping a bomb on a cartoon Fidel Castro all 1940's Loony Toons style. Somehow, in the dream that all made sense to how this device worked.

The device modulated an array of microphones around the guitarist, producing some sort of unique sound, not ever heard in my dream since he didn't get around to ever playing before I woke up.

I assure you, it would have been amazing.