(Although this does not describe my typical bus route accurately, elements of it are familiar. The narrow strip of road over the lake is a common theme in my dreams, although generally until now it has been associated with home and Lake Erie.)
I am on the bus going home when the driver misses the turnoff. I don’t realise it at first. We are on a narrow, curvy, twisty pier-like bridge turning around to go back when all of us, at the same moment, realise that we are no longer on the bridge — must have gone straight and missed a curve — and are suspended for a second above the water, cartoon-like. Just long enough to realise our fate.
We plunge into the water, which is cold. I am trying to slide a window open sideways, knowing I will never fit through it. I find myself shouting, “Do not panic! Just open the windows!” This keeps everyone from panicking. I open the window — the water is up to my waist — and more water pours, but I find my head above water and in a very short time, just as I feel I’m about to go under, I find myself face to bumper with a car in a parking garage and look up to see the female driver, who looks scared and perplexed. We both have a moment of confusion, but then somehow (not shown) she rescues me. I have a sensation of being the only survivor.