Okay, i had a dream the other night that was vivid enuf to remember and altho i woke up before it ended, i wrote it all down and added little middlemen bits to make it flow, altho keep in mind that there isnt much to them and you prolly wont even recognize them unless youve talked to me about this. everyone whos read it so far has said great things about it, all the way to "this could make it as a tim burton film" that should hint at the sort of dreams i have. neway, ill stop stalling.
02/01/03
First day at work, I come in, grab a broom, start walking up the side of the warehouse to find the start of the leafy mess that must have been blown in by the wind and accumulating since the place first opened a few hours earlier. I start sweeping, knowing I haven't clocked in; knowing I'm wearing cutoff sweat shorts and some god-awefull ratty old concert shirt, and haven't even hung up my trench coat. I get to the clothing dept and see my boss. "hey, there Mr. Tompkins." "hello, Tommy." he doesn't even look as if he notices my sloppy ensemble, but reminds me of a Mr. Rogers at an away-from-home job, just cheerful that I showed up my first day at all. "hey, would you mind if I went home for a few minutes to change into pants?" I didn't wanna make excuses—I forgot, didn't realize what I was doing this morning—some lame excuse of the like that might get me in trouble, even though the boss seemed to be lost in his joy joy day of whatever he was doing at work. he nodded and I smiled, then I dashed out of there quickly. out in the parking lot the sun was already shining in my face, seeming to be only a mile away from the earth, altho it wasn't hot. in fact, the temperature was just right a nice fifty degrees or so. I started the search for my car. when I saw it, there were men and cars standing around it and I knew I wouldn't have been able to get out. they weren't necessarily after MY car, but it was an inconvenience and I didn't want to get questioned for anything right now, it being my first day at work. I was late enough as it was, having to grab a better change of clothes. I quietly and unnoticeably slumped back and away and over down towards the end of the strip mall. a hair salon, a barber shop, an ice cream parlor. all neatly lined strangely next to this newer-in-era sort of warehouse and department store of many products—clothes, plants, hardware...and leaves.
I headed towards the hills that would end up in my town. I knew I could slide low and sleek and fast over those hills, id seen it done before. I grabbed my cardboard flyer, walked over to the start of the hills, laid down on it and it, and started to slowly glide over, and gradually sped up till I was going about sixty to seventy miles per hour. the hills were beautiful and vast with little life—mostly dirt, sand and some tumbleweeds. there were a few mountains but they weren't like your typical high peaks, but were pretty low. there was much more to cross than I had imagined, even at the speed I was going, passing so lowly I could drag my fingers. I saw a couple in the near distance, about fifty feet away or so, riding on one of the new sand-glider models. it looked a lot like a wind surfer and went faster than my own glider. one was pulling the other along on a glider much like mine. they were shouting and laughing, their hair whipping in the wind. I watched them as they slid over a peak, headed away from where I was headed, and in minutes they were gone. just the tip of the top of their glider barely in vision. bastards must have had the day off. I scowled a little in jealousy and then I looked forward again and tried to forget about how much I had to go through ahead of me before I got to have fun like they were again. the ground beneath me had an unusual negative force to the cardboard, which was what made it hover. the winds were strange over the hills, also, and the combination of the two was what made it possible to glide so smooth and fast. my cardboard wasn't a piece out of the usual. it was mostly just a rectangular piece that would have been dumped just as easily in the trash, and no adults thought about the connection with that and the uniqueness of the forces in the hills, and they all had cars anyway, so it was pretty useless to them. just scrap from boxes they loaded off their delivery trucks, nothing more. I continued to glide over the peaks of the taller hills as I saw some trees and what looked like a village a few hundred feet ahead of me. woohoo! but was it home? was that where I was supposed to be headed for? my town didn't look like that. what I saw before me, and was headed for looked more like a forest with houses. I looked harder. had I been turned around somehow? I knew some of the mysteries of the mountains but was I discovering another in bad luck? no, I wouldn't believe it. I had to keep going. I was past the point of no return...so I thought.
I got closer and sure enough, it was a different town. phew! I wiped a little sweat and dirt from my forehead, caused by the wind and my speed and closeness to the ground. I got off my cruiser of cardboard and looked for the nearest person I could ask directions from. I figure if I could find the highway I could hitch a ride home or walk, depending how far it was. I saw an old man walking around aimlessly and slowly I walked up to him. "excuse me...sir?" he sort of looked at me in sadness, his brow up for a moment, like he expected me but then turned away in disappointment, as if he didn't like what he saw, or I wasn't whom he thought I was, or whom he was looking for. I tried again, this time I gently put my hand on his shoulder. "sir?" this time he turned around and stood looking at me with questioning eyes. making no notice of his mood, I asked him if he knew where my town was or where the highway was. he pointed to something he was originally faced before I interrupted his peace. I let go of his shoulder and walked past him to see what he was pointing at. difficult to see through the trees and the sun shining through them, I shaded my eyes with my hand and kept walking, squinting. I got closer to what looked like an old, rain-rotted sign, perhaps hit by many a drunk driver, broken on the road-side half, then smoothed over by wind and probably years of dirt and dust kicked up by cars. Was this what he was pointing at? was the name of my town on this old, beat up stick in the dirt with/ a few boards nailed to it? yes! there it was. the town name was still engraved and painted in yellow. I looked around for someone who was possibly leaving and could maybe give me a ride. I saw a woman—maybe she was just a girl, I couldn't tell by the dust on her face and the sad and empty look in her eyes—who was bound by stocks and leading 2 small children. I asked her if she was heading in the direction of my town and if i could get a ride with her kids. she looked at me blankly, not shocked by my ignorance but as if she didn't even understand what I was saying, making no communication whatsoever. I calmly walked away while keeping my eyes on hers untill she turned away and kept walking to wherever she was going. I left the village and walked down the road a bit and all of a sudden, i was in a very odd and scary place.
It looked like a horse farm. It did have horses, but they were in huge cages and they were very hostile. In fact, there were men in the cages with them and the horses jaws were clamped onto the mens' faces. I looked at the scene in terror, shocked and still. I couldn't move. The men tried screaming and had their hands on the horses faces and tried pulling them off but the horses jaws were too strong and the worst part was that it didn't kill the men so that they kept struggling and shaking, and the horses just held on. If any of the men were lucky, they would die of shock. I looked around me and saw a few peculiar men wandering around in what looked like very narrow paths, surrounded by poles stuck in the ground along each side with, instead of wooden handrails, the rails consisted of lines of barbed wire. The paths weren't very wide, either, so you had to take care as not to catch onto the wires. I saw one of the men moving precariously close and didn't want to find out why, or why those poor horses were so crazy, or why those poor men were put there to meet their doom in this ferocious manner, so I tried to move along in this maze of barbed paths till i saw what looked like an exit sign, as one you would see in a video game, and then it became that. I had to move more quickly so not to be caught but started to catch on the wire rails so i pulled my hands into my sleeves and moved along keeping as much as possible inside my coat and thin to stay between the poles and wires. Then I was out. I never reached the exit. I didn't get caught. I didn't trip and fall, or catch my death on a wire or anything of the sort—I was just out of there.
I looked down and found myself w/ two long, somewhat rusty and old weapons in my hands. one was a giant fork, although the end was more like a small trident. The other was even more unusual; sort of like a duo, but on one pole, and then splitting off into their own unique form of either a single sharp end and a small trident on the other side like the one in my other hand. These were not any weapons of the normal fame such as scyths or pickaxes or even swords. These looked as though they had been specially ordered and forged by some maniacal madman with a violent surrounding that made him need these weapons so as to protect himself. Beside me were my gang of two other boys my age. They were also dressed much like myself, both in long trenchcoats, although it appeared as though they were wearing cutoff green cargo pants and had longsleeve shirts, hi-top sneakers and dusty socks from whatever they had been doing before our encounter. I glanced around quickly, for I didn't know what I was up against this time. With no horses around and no creepy farmers with pitchforks following me, but my two trusty sidekicks, we saw that we were in a warehouse not unlike the one I'd come from earlier. we were upstairs in almost what seemed to look like a loft, but it went to other rooms over what didn't appear to be the warehouse downstairs. we crept around the corner carefully, and more skillfully than when I was running about in the wire maze, weapons in hand, and saw nobody but a dark hallway with a few doors on the side and one single door on the end. We headed towards it and charged the door, knocking it down. My trident met somebody on the other side, looking like he was about to need new trousers, and raised his hands in the air, dropping whatever drink he had in his hand, his mouth agape. He said nothing but stood there still. "How'd you like a taste of my trident?" I asked him devilishly. My friends chuckled in the backround, and we moved the scared man to the side, my friends kept their attention on him so he could not to sneak up on us. After he fainted, we kept going into what looked like a biker bar and cafe. We took a seat around the corner to the right, and ordered a pitcher of beer. on the opposite side of the room was a door to the outside, which was open. The funny thing was that there was no way down. just a two-story drop. Kind of like air-conditioning. We looked down at the seats and we were surrounded with what looked like about 5 little rabbits. just hopping about, minding their own business, with the exception of one, who was trying to nip my finger.
