I saw my father, an Arab man in his forties In a large, dark room, surrounded by banknotes flying in the air. He seemed to be trying to collect them, but whenever he grabbed the banknotes, they slipped through his fingers as if they were made of smoke. His face was full of anxiety and tension, and something in the dream made me feel afraid. There was someone in the corner, I couldn't see his face clearly, but he was watching my father silently, as if waiting for something to happen.