winning gold and cult

I was visiting a local shopping centre and decided to enter a competition of some kind. It was not a test of skill; rather, it was much like winning a lottery –– a game of chance. I purchased a digital 'ticket' by swiping my mobile phone, and pressed 'play'. I watched my mobile screen as numbers and symbols spun around on three reels, as they do on a standard poker machine. I pressed 'stop' and my screen lit up and music played. The phone showed gold coins spilling out of a casket and piling higher and higher. A cash amount flashed on the screen –– around $36, 000 (I cannot recall the exact figure). I was very excited and immediately began to budget out my winnings.

Later, I dreamed I was in a huge hall with hundreds of other people. We'd gathered to attend a weekend workshop of some kind. There were various crew members –– both women and men –– walking around, attending to the audience, and a few women on stage, talking to the crowd. All of the crew appeared to be fit and healthy, and I gathered I was there to learn about health. I could see a few family members and close friends also gathered in the hall. As a woman on stage spoke, the man sitting next to me whispered a few asides: 'You know they change an annual fee of $700 dollars, don't you?', 'Just wait until we've all signed in. Everything changes.', 'Once you're in, you're in. Don't say I didn't warn you.' –– that kind of thing. I grew increasingly alarmed. I looked around and noticed the crew were now walking through the audience, taking hair samples from everyone. Each person was to cut a lock of their hair and give it to the crew, who would then place and seal it in a small plastic bag. Some people were readily snipping off samples of their hair, obliging and even proud to follow the directive. Others seemed uncertain. I asked my friend if she intended to give a hair sample and she answered, 'Of course. Why not?' I didn't like it. I wondered why they wanted our hair. I wondered what they were going to do with it and felt worried they'd somehow use our DNA. Follow-up crew were now getting around the crowd, having people sign a form –– a permission form? I knew I had to leave, although I was bound to cause a scene as I was sitting in the middle of a row towards the back of the hall, and would have to walk through the audience up to the very front to make it out the door. I hoped my family and friends would follow.