The beach shell transport that leads to nowhere

I dreamt that lots of people gathered to march in a festive procession to my friend’s house which used to be at the crossing of two important streets. The wide plastered pavement in front of her house was covered knee-high in beautiful seashells in all shapes and colours. I picked some up to examine them. There were conches, cockles and cones with spinose shells. Angel wings and keyhole limpets, tabled Neptunes and ganesh shank. Vivid patterns and soft shades in the most varied colours.

My friend was hiding from the people inside her house. So I tried to gather the most beautiful shells for her and set them aside.
More people came, until there was a huge crowd of fifty people in front of my friend’s house. A young blonde lad asked me “Where is she?” and I knew he was the one who had showered my friend with shells. I tried to figure out where the guy had gathered all those shells and suddenly realized that they were made of coloured concrete. I woke up and thought wow this dream must have been inspired by Steinbeck’s «The pearl».