My dream of late...

So this is a dream ive had a few nights now and thought id share it with you all.

The sound of water laps against the steel hull of a ship, It has a post world war 2 feel or just an older feel. I stand on a darkened dock taking slow drags from a cigarette, its cold out and there is a thick fog. I can see the steel hulls and the cranes of a ship yard that I am currently in. Im wrapped in a warm peacoat with an old sea bag across my shoulder, shadows are everywhere and whats not directly in front of me is a hazy silhoute, I stand there smoking in the cold, as if waiting for something or someone, but eventually decide to walk on, I walk to away from the dock into a small town through unlit alley ways and streets, there are no street signs on the roads and the only light comes from the cigarette I am smoking, I readjust my seabag and continue wandering the streets, feeling as though I am looking for something just not knowing what it is. I eventually come to a small alley with a lantern outside the door, I walk into a small tavern like place and sit down at the counter putting my bag under my feet, I strike up another cigarette and order a whiskey with two ice cubes no more no less, I make small talk with the bar tender nothing of prevalence, I continue to sit there and nurse my whiskey for what seemed like ages, eventually a man comes and sit by me and says "you just get in sailor" I reply "yes i just got back, my name is Rory" the old man who looks weathered by more than just natural age replies "I didnt ask your name sailor" I notice how he was smoking lucky strikes and took his drink the same way I did. So I bought him a drink, I noticed the jaded nature in his eye and the way he spoke with a disdain for humanity in general, We began to speak once again, I noticed how this man would never call me by my proper name just "Sailor" and would never tell me his name as well though I prompted him to it was always retorted in "names dont really matter in these times" We talked the night away, about far away places we had been, storms we had weathered and just general small talk, in my dreamscape I thought it was odd how our lifes were so parrelel, but then the conversation turned serious and we talked more, and then I knew I had to make ship for some other distant land, I grab my sea bag off that dusty and mangy floor and put my drink back on the oaken table. The old man goes "Rory" I ask "old man how do know my name, im just a sailor to you" and he replies "its my name to" Then I cannot hear the rest of whats said but I nod and light a cigarette and walkout the door....

needless to say it was the wierdest dream of my life and what is odder is its happened a few nights now...any ideas??