Writing Prompt Wednesday 08/02

Just want to remind everyone that you can write a story to this prompt and send it to writerschestsubmissions@mail.com and I'll post it next week when I post my own! I'll even give you a post on my contributor page!
This week's writing prompt:

Dream catchers become full and it is your job to empty them so they will work once more.

Last week's prompt:

His eyes darted around the parking lot; he swore under his breath. The parking lot was empty but that was impossible. It shouldn't be empty and it shouldn't be night. He should be in the middle of a full parking lot searching for his car by the light of day.

"Oi,mate, whatcha think yer about?" a voice said. The man in the parking lot realized it was coming from a sewer grate after searching fro a few moments.
"What do you mean what am I about? I'm looking for my goddamn car!"
"Lower your fuckin' voice, mate!" the sewer man hissed, "You wanna git eatin'? There's cannies about and yer off hokin' yer horn like they ain't a thing."
"What's a cannie?"
"Oh, God's left nut!?! What do you mean what's a cannie? Uggh, my muther's left tit, yer one a dem fallen, aren't ya?" the sewer man asked.
"What are you talking about fallen? I haven't fallen anywhere," the lost man said.
"You didn't fall just anywhere. You fell outta yer reality and right smack into this one," the sewer man said, "more of you people are falling through on the daily."
"Is this a joke? Who puts you up to this? Stan?"
"Who the fuck is Stan? Only Stan I knew died six months ago. Ate by cannies."
"What the hell are cannies?" the parking lot man asked. His words were punctuated by a long, undulating howl followed by short, baying yips.
The sewer man's eyes rounded like saucers. "Oh, mate, I'm so sorry. Yer about to find out firsthand. I'm... I'm sorry, mate."
"Why are you sorry? What's happening?"
You can try to run," the sewer man said, his voice receding from the grate, "It probably won't help. You can try, though. Try to die quick, that's my suggestion."
"Hey, wait! You're just going to leave me to die? You aren't even going to try to help me?"
"Sorry, mate, this isn't that kind of world, survival of the fittest and all."
The sewer man waited for the scream he knew was coming. It was long and drawn out. Poor sod. He was a fighter. Always better if they just died quick.