Thursday, July 3, 2014
I was at work in a big, old house. One room contained a giant picture window facing an open horizon with a perfect view of the sunset. I stood before the window and could see that the sky was vibrant, and the clouds were violently swirling, swelling, moving like they were time lapsed. I had the sense that the sky was putting on a show just for me and I couldn't believe how lucky I was. People walked in and looked at me but they didn't speak or stop to watch the sky with me. They were too busy. I ignored them and lay down on the floor. It began to storm violently. I watched clumps of clouds slam onto the ground and make thunder. I peered through the sheets of water that poured down the glass, focused and unfocused my eyes to see the infinite shapes these simple drops of water formed together. As I let the display wash over me, I was filled with great peace and a secret sense of understanding. All these people around me -- how could they not stop and take the time to watch this? When the storm concluded, the clouds broke and the sky was crystal clear, the darkest black, with a giant full moon right in the center.
I saw another moon appear off to the left, close to the horizon. Though it was full and gave a glow like the real moon, it left me with an uneasy feeling. It suddenly began revolving around the sky over and over. I knew I should have been impressed but I couldn't let myself enjoy it because it didn't make sense. I went outside on the patio with everyone to check it out. It disappeared briefly but was soon replaced with... what was this? A glowing World Cup 2014 soccer ball? The crowed oohed and awed but it didn't feel right. It felt cheap. Then the dancing, glowing light transformed into a butterfly that tickled people's faces, a lumberjack that made conversation, a dog that barked.
The crowd grew restless and turned on each other. I ducked to get away, but the light focused its attention on me. It had assumed the shape of a stuffed monkey with a dart gun. It locked eyes with me, took aim, and shot at me. The crowd watched on as I slow-motion Matrixed my way around each dart. When the battle was over, I had only a moment to feel triumphant before a crazed man from the crowd brandished an open knife at me, demanding a fight to the death. I pleaded for him to let me go inside for a moment. There was something I needed to do in there. He relented and I ran inside the house. I somehow found the strength to push the angry mob off the door and lock it behind me.
In the relative quiet of the house, my brain switched into survival mode. I straightened my spine, dashed off to the back room, found my purse, my debit card, and my phone. I made my way to the back door. I would run. I would not fight. I would run. "You've done this before," I thought. With my hand on the door knob, I remembered a stash of guns in the cabinet. I slid open the cabinet door and grabbed a .20 mm. Not big enough. I grabbed a 9mm. No bullets. Fuck it. I don't fight fire with fire. I'm running away. I threw the guns back into the cabinet and ran out the back door. Then I woke up.