Death and a busdriver.

Two dreams again, although string again is a common theme.
In the first I was sitting with a large circle of people. Slowly walking around the inside of the circle was a tall hooded man in dark clothing, perhaps Death himself, (herself!).
He was individually dispensing punishment, torture or death as he proceeded. He came to me and tied a piece of string to my ankle. The other end was tied to a 2 metre high rocket, sort of miniature Saturn V type. I thought this might hurt. The rocket took off with a huge roar, the string snaking out behind. The string tightened with a jerk and my leg twitched but the rocket turned and headed on full power towards the ground. (Bit of a consolation for not being a lightweight). It narrowly missed me and exploded nearby. I was ok and Death moved on.

In the second dream I had a red plastic toy telephone with a piece of string attached. I stood at a bus stop and tied the end of the string onto a nearby drainpipe and talked to nobody in particular. Hoodies at the other side of the road, kicked a football repeatedly above my head. A bus arrived and they all boarded except myself who entered a previously unnoticed bus shelter. The driver came into the shelter and put on some classical music for me with a gentlemanly smile. I was overcome, and carried on waiting . . .