Dream - With my grandmother, on the bridge

On Friday morning, June 19, 2009, I dreamed about my family taking a trip in a car to some kind of tourist destination, and sometime after arriving there I took my grandmother for a sight-seeing walk on a tall concrete bridge, during which she became ill and had trouble breathing.

In the dream, the family was traveling in a car out to some place far from town. My father was driving. My two sisters were still little, making it probably in the late 1960s, though the car seemed newer, possibly the 1973 Oldsmobile Custom Cruiser, though I'm not sure it was initially as big as that. It was a station wagon, though, a big one, and later in the dream it was thought of as the Oldsmobile. With that and the age I seemed to be, sometime in the 1970s seems most logical.

We were going up though a series of hills to gradually higher ground. The road here was rock-hard dirt, reddish brown, carved out of much steeper hills, frequently with steep cliffs of hard dirt at the sides, the remnants of the former hills. Sometimes these were fairly thick and other times only a few feet, but still rising high, maybe ten feet or more. The dirt was too hard and stiff to break or fall. The road was a broad two lanes, and didn't have normal markings, but seemed to have broken black lines on the outside edges of the lanes and in the middle. There was also a hard dirt shoulder, looking much the same as the rest of it, a light reddish brown. Between the cut-out peaks, sharp drop-offs sometimes ran along the road, especially as the road got higher. Besides going up and down, the road also had curves in it.

My father was driving very fast, an almost frantic look on his face, as he kept his eyes fixed on what lay ahead. I was sitting in the front passenger seat, and occasionally looked over at him. The driving fast concerned me. I wasn't sure how well the tires would stick to this kind of surface, but he kept whizzing around the corners anyway. Traffic was fairly light, but there were some other cars around, in front and behind us, and sometimes one would go past in the other direction. One time my mother, from the back seat, asked him why he was going so fast, but I'm not sure what he said, or if he said anything about it.

We were getting close to our destination now. We went around a big broad turn and ahead was the entrance, past a big cut-out peak. On the way to the peak the right side of the road was mostly open, with some low narrow projections along with outright gaps. One extended projection ran like a low thin wall, maybe a couple of feet high and thirty feet long, and there were also occasional thin projecting peaks maybe two or three feet high, along with big gaps. I could see the rounded, sharply sloping ground beyond, maybe with a slope of as much as 70 percent in places.

My father was talking to my mother now about something, his head partly turned, only half looking at what he was doing. I watched as the car drifted to the right onto the shoulder, toward the projections at the edge. It seemed to go on for a disturbingly long time, as I waited for him to notice or perhaps for someone else to notice and say something. Finally someone did say something, "Watch out!" I'm not sure who it was, it could have even been me, though it really doesn't seem so. It was late now in the process, and we were well onto the shoulder, maybe a foot or two from the far edge of it and the projections or the drop-off.

My father turned back to the front to look at what was happening. His eyes got big and his face settled back into his neck a bit, with his mouth in kind of a teeth-gritted grin of fear and concentration. He seemed unable to pull us back on the road, though. I'm not sure why. It seemed that he couldn't control the car well enough, or felt that he couldn't, and we continued to drift off to the side, hitting the low narrow wall of hard dirt, going about a third over it. I could feel the car grinding against it and hear the sound it made, and pieces and chunks were breaking off, sheered off by the front of the car, and the big pieces and what was left grinding irregularly against the bottom.

Then we were past it in an open section, with a few small thin projecting peaks, the car still going to the right, the two right wheels apparently on the slope, the car in danger of completely sliding off and falling, probably tumbling, down the slope to whatever awaited at the bottom, however far that might be. Not far ahead and approaching fast, was a large piece of hill left over from the cut-out. It was probably fifteen to twenty feet across at the base, though the side facing us wasn't flat, but severely rounded, especially the side toward the road. It was probably twenty to thirty feet high, narrowing sharply as it rose. It looked like we were going to smack right into it and then go off the road completely, probably to our deaths, if the initial impact didn't kill us first. Only seconds remained, at most.

I closed my eyes and tried desperately to think of a way out. I may have made some broken prayers initially, but then I remembered hearing about someone who had the ability to get out of bad situations by saying or thinking "anomaly" over and over, while thinking of a desired different outcome. I tried it, just having time to say anomaly a few times, probably in my head, but having trouble, in the immediacy of the situation, coming up with clear alternatives. Did I want us to be somewhere else entirely? But we wanted to be here to go to this place. I finally came up with the thought that I wanted everything to turn out alright, and that no one get hurt.

I felt the Oldsmobile sliding sideways, and knew that my father had purposefully done it, to try to minimize the crash and improve the chances of getting back on the road. Most of the car was off the road and on the slope, coming up sideways against the tall hill, the wheels grinding and spinning against the dirt and pieces of dirt, the front wheels still on the road. A low ridge of dirt, perhaps a foot high, though maybe a little taller before we ran over it, was under the car from side to side. I could see it all in my mind, from a position up in the air a bit and forty or fifty feet back the way we had come.

Finally we climbed back up onto the road, and we drove leisurely through the opening in the hill, toward the tall gates. The whole process had taken only a few seconds, though it seemed to stretch out in time while it happened.


Then we went inside and were walking around looking at things. The place was a tourist attraction of some kind, evidently celebrating the geology of the area, perhaps other things too. I peeked in at the eating place, a fairly large one. It had a stack of TV dinner packages along a wall, on a wooden shelf structure that was basically just some slats. They were apparently a kind that didn't need refrigeration. I had checked in earlier and then come back, and I saw a lot of the dinners were gone now. They were relatively expensive TV dinners, deluxe ones, and some were large, family size ones. One of the large ones was lasagna, the package extolling how good it was. There wasn't a lot of selection, though. There were just a were basic types. Other, non-TV dinner types of food were available, some of it being displayed behind a long glass counter to the right of the shelves of TV dinners, and some more on a high shelf that ran along the wall behind the counter.

I didn't think there would be time to eat now, it was getting too late. If we waited it would be dark and too late to see anything today. Most of the others had gone off, at least some to restrooms. The girls showed back up now. The oldest was probably about eight or nine and the younger one maybe five or six. My father may have gone in the restaurant to eat something, I'm not sure. I would have liked to go the restroom, too, and I also had been conscious of the need to wash my hands, since I had gone to a restroom earlier in the trip and I hadn't been able to wash my hands there. But it was really too late now, we had to get outside while it was still light.

The girls and I went out the back and saw the low sunlight on fields of yellow-green grass a few inches high. The land was rolling somewhat, and was at a little bit of a sideways slant. A ways beyond, it folded into a slight depression and then rose up again on the other side. Parts of it were in shadow, and there seemed only a few minutes of sunlight left. There was something beyond the far rise, I felt, maybe amusement park rides, maybe something else. The girls ran out into the grass, heading for it. I guessed the adults would have to catch up with them later, though I did wonder a bit about how hard it might be for everybody to find each other again. It didn't really seem like it would be a big problem, though our parents might be a little bothered.


I found myself walking, then, with my grandmother, my mother's mother, who had come with us. We were on a tall concrete bridge that curved up high above things. I think some other family members might possibly have been with us initially, but if so it was eventually just us and the other tourists. It wasn't a big crowd of people, though. In fact it was fairly thin, and mostly younger people, teens and twenties. It was night now, and we walked leisurely along. I think there was a tour guide or two also, talking about things, but I don't think we were officially on a tour, we just happened to be moving along approximately with it. The bridge was meant for traffic, and though some cars or trucks could theoretically come by at any time, there weren't any right now. If something did come we would have to move to the side to let it by. Sometimes we walked along closer to the left side, but we probably more often walked by the right side.

The bridge was covered and had walls. In some places the walls had large openings, long blank sections with not much more than a concrete railing and a low concrete wall. Other places were entirely walled, sometimes with large windows showing a wall of red rock streaked with yellow, rock that had been cut through to make the bridge, and in some places the rock went from top to bottom, replacing the wall entirely, and without any covering. Several feet beyond the wall on the right, perhaps as much as ten or twenty in some cases, was the other half of the bridge, with its own set of lanes.

Some of the windows were separated into four or more panes, with the rock directly against the window. Some had lots of smaller panes, with some of the panes having black material of some kind on the other side instead of the rock, evidently for an artistic effect, but I felt that behind the black material was more of the rock.

Other things were also on display. Some places had plaques, sometimes on broad short posts. There were also some paintings in fancy frames, and maybe an occasional small suit of armor or some other little item.

One or two times I saw on the left side, through square holes in the floor maybe a couple a feet across, another bridge underneath this one. The other bridge was smaller, and was especially for pedestrians. It had a brick or simulated brick floor, and brick on the walls. I could see happy people down there talking to each other. There seemed to be more people down there right now than up here.

As we slowly walked along, I talked to my grandmother, showing her things and trying to explain some about them, though I didn't really know much so it was mostly a matter of pointing out things, and remarking on them. She seemed interested in it, and sometimes said something too. As we went on, though, it became harder to get her attention, like she was a bit distracted, and while I was pointing out some more of the windows in the wall that had the rock and dark material behind them, she seemed to be looking more further ahead and just slightly toward the wall. We were entering a rather long section of these windows now. As we went along, I became more concerned about her, and came to the conclusion that she was wearing out, and she was too distracted by her condition to be able pay a lot of attention to what I was showing her. I finally reached down and picked her up in my arms and carried her. I went forward, walking faster now.

Some doors appeared to the left that were exits, and several people who worked at the resort quickly came, apparently from multiple directions and possibly hidden doors but not from the exits themselves, and were telling everyone that they had to get off the bridge. Evidently it was because of some traffic that was going to come by, a series of large street sweepers I think, that cleaned the bridge on certain nights. The people were rushing to the doors and opening them and going through. I saw that beyond each door was an enclosed curving lane a few feet wide that went sharply downward. All the people went down them, evidently to the other bridge below, though perhaps some of the people continued down all the way to the ground. I didn't like the exits, though. Maybe I thought they didn't lead where I needed to go, as they either went to an unfamiliar bridge or to the ground, to an unfamiliar area full of people walking around and far from the building where I needed to go.

After pausing briefly while I watched what was happening, I started walking again, hoping to find something better. Past the exits, the light dimmed a little. The displays continued for a short distance, but then ended, replaced by bare concrete walls. I walked on down the empty corridor, carrying my grandmother, alone.

As I continued on, the bridge became slanted downward a little as it headed for the other side, and the light grew more dim. I didn't see any more exits. I was starting to think I should have taken one of the ones back there after all. My grandmother didn't weigh much, it was like carrying a child, but my arms were getting tired. I hoped I could get off the bridge when it reached the bottom, but I was afraid it would start to curve up again and curve away from the building.

The bridge was getting a lot lower now, approaching the end, when the road suddenly forked, leading off in two different directions. The one on the right was fairly broad and started to curve upward again. The one on the left, a smaller one, continued downward into even dimmer light, with a lower ceiling. The opening was perhaps wide enough for two cars to pass if they weren't very big and didn't mind getting really close to each other.

Not far from where the road branched, what looked like a massive steel screw was embedded in the left branch, against the right wall of it and going up to the ceiling, or close to it. Later on, it was long enough that it did go through the ceiling. It took up maybe four or five feet of space, but still left enough room for a car to pass. I was under the impression now that some of the big street cleaning trucks might have come through there, though some might have come from the other branch. I wasn't sure if they went through by the screw, though I thought they did. It might be a tight squeeze for a big street cleaning truck, but perhaps slightly smaller models used this branch. I was also under the impression, somehow, that the giant screw was part of the equipment that was used to cut through the rock and build the bridge, though I didn't know if it was actually one of the ones that did it or was meant as a representation of one, just showing that this type of machine was used. I also wasn't sure if it was intended to be something permanent or was just temporarily left there for some reason. Although I had at first pictured it as drilling through the concrete floor, there didn't seem to be any actual evidence of this. The floor just seemed to end at it.

I paused there, at the fork in the road, uncertain what to do. My grandmother seemed to be having trouble breathing, and I had to get her to some help fast. I didn't know if the opening on the left, with the screw, actually had an opening at the bottom or if it just continued along, like the other seemed to. I could try walking all the way back to the exits the other people had used, but that would take me a long way out of my way, not only walking back to them but because they didn't seem to go directly to where I wanted to go, leaving me outside the building somewhere.

A short, young, very slightly pudgy man came toward me from the right and a little ahead. I don't know where he came from. He said it was alright, to go ahead and take the opening, indicating the left one. He said that he had noticed earlier that I seemed to be in some trouble and he had called ahead and they had prepared things, evidently meaning that a way out had been prepared, though it could have been more than that.

I went ahead down the opening, passing the massive screw, peering at it. It seemed to be solidly in the concrete floor, like the floor was cast in place around it. The scratched lines in the concrete, though, put there for better grip, smoothly went right up to the screw, with no evidence of any alteration in them, no unevenness or suddenly changing to go in a circle around it, just coming directly up to it and stopping and then starting again on the other side, like it was in fact tightly in a hole that had been drilled through the concrete, but without any chipped edges or any other evidence of drilling. The screw was tight against the concrete everywhere, too, which would be hard to achieve by drilling because the threads of the screw would have chewed up material, leaving gaps in the area between the threads, unless it really did just screw right into it instead of drilling through. However it was put there, it seemed to be permanent.

I edged on past it and went down into the increasing darkness. The path narrowed some as it went down, but there wasn't a great deal of distance to go, perhaps a hundred feet or so. I reached the bottom and the path turned to the right, but there was a door at the left, maybe two or more of them. I went through one into a small concrete room, illuminated with a pale white light from somewhere above. A series of other small concrete rooms were to the right, and maybe some also to the left, and doubling or tripling up on each other, with doors that led through them and deeper into them, becoming almost maze-like. I could see it in my mind, and pictured what could happen, seeing me or someone else going into the rooms, cautiously going deeper into them, looking ahead attentively as each door was slowly opened and passed through.

After a brief pause, while I grimaced and took in the situation, I went forward out a door opposite to the one I had come in through, in a direction away from the road and toward the building.

I was outside, then, close to the building. A few people were around, but I didn't see anybody that could help me, no emergency people or security people, or any immediately noticeable way of summoning them. My grandmother hadn't said anything for a long time, not since we had been high up on the bridge walking along, and I wasn't sure if she was still actually conscious, though her eyes were open. I went toward the building, hoping to run into a security person or someone who could help.

At the corner of the building I started to go down a covered sidewalk, when I saw an opening in a slanted inset area for a restroom. I started to go in the restroom, hoping to find someone there who could help or some method of summoning help, and maybe a couch or something to set my grandmother on, as this was a fairly deluxe place, when I backed up and looked at the sign again. It was a dark, brass-like two-part plaque mounted high on the wall above the doorway, with "RESTROOM" on the bottom part and who it was for on the top, and I didn't see earlier whether it was a men's or women's and wanted to check. I hoped it was a men's. It turned out to be a women's. I glanced briefly around but didn't see a men's restroom and wasn't sure where it might be or how close it might be. I was tired and time seemed to be running out swiftly. I might have only minutes. I thought, oh well, this will have to do, and walked in.

I glanced briefly at the scene. The room had a line of stalls on both sides. The ones on the right were larger and there were more of them, and sloped outward in a curve at the bottom, I guess as an artistic effect. A few women were outside the stalls, but all were dressed, for which I was relieved. The restroom was very large, with a lot of open space. Not too far away was a sofa-like chair and I considered setting her in that, but I felt that I had to say something first, something about what was happening and why I was there.

I said loudly that I had a problem here, that I needed some help, and the women started coming forward, some coming out of the stalls. I found that I had what looked like a large padded kitchen chair by me to the left and slightly ahead. One or two of the women were pushing at it, moving it a little closer. I set my grandmother down in it. My arms were on the verge of giving out. I was saying, or maybe it was someone else saying it, to call somebody. Some women were talking into cell phones and I think one of them pulled something high on the wall to the right. The place became increasingly crowded with people, some of them already in the restroom and some coming in from the outside. Some men were also included in the group now.

Then Rick Bauer, a doctor from the TV soap opera Guiding Light, came in, and was checking my grandmother with his stethoscope, and talking. He was saying that she was going to be alright, that they needed to get some oxygen in here for her and she would be alright, though I was under the impression that he was still going to take her to the hospital. Some short men, apparently Latinos, came in with a white two-tiered cart full of what were apparently medical supplies, though I wasn't sure if they had any oxygen with them. It looked like it was still going to have to be called for, and Rick was already talking into his cell phone.

Wordzzle 70 - Sunflower fields

This is my contribution to this week's Wordzzle. Wordzzle is a game in which each week word lists, used to create stories, are given on the blog Views from Raven's Nest. Participating users post their stories on their own blogs.

This is the fourteenth time I've played the game.


Ten Word Challenge:

Florida,
spit,
child bride,
operatic,
busy,
holding pattern,
sunflowers,
ginger jars,
office,
superintendent

The sunflowers swayed in the wind. Bees flew in busy holding patterns around them. Old ginger jars and empty Florida orange juice cartons lay on the ground, scattered among the grass and the sunflower stalks. Somewhere a woman in a high operatic voice was singing a country song, something about being a child bride.

Beyond the sunflowers, a ramshackle wooden house sat, badly in need of paint. A boy riding by on a bike threw a newspaper, which bounced off the house and landed among the sunflowers.

An old man came out and picked up the newspaper and looked at the headlines, then leaned over and tried to spit in one of the ginger jars, but accidentally hit a bee instead. The bee fell to the ground and lay still. The old man leaned over further, peering at it with one eye. Then the other bees attacked him, swarming around him and stinging him, and he was waving the newspaper at them and dancing and yelling and acting very agitated. He ran back and forth and around the yard and finally ran back inside, slamming the door behind him, shutting the bees in with him. Through the window he could still be seen, dancing around and waving the newspaper and shouting.

In an office somewhere a superintendent looked at his large screen TV and shook his head. "I'll never understand these music videos," he said, sighing. "But if you think this will help sell the song, then go ahead"


Mini Challenge:

music to my ears,
plot,
powerful,
braggart,
super model

"I beat them all," said the braggart. "Over and over again. Their cries of frustration were music to my ears. Super models flocked around me, and I enjoyed their attentions, while remaining aware that they did that with anyone who was powerful, and it was not about me personally." He paused, looking thoughtful. "Those were the days, and it seemed like they would never end. They did, though, and faster than expected. I underestimated my enemies, and they gathered together and plotted against me. It's all gone now, everything. All I have is memories." He laid his head in his arms and began to sob uncontrollably.

"Billy," his mother said. "So your team lost one game. It's not the end of the world."


Mega challenge:

Florida,
spit,
child bride,
operatic,
busy,
holding pattern,
sunflowers,
ginger jars,
office,
superintendent

music to my ears,
plot,
powerful,
braggart,
super model

The superintendent opened his office door and was met by sunflowers. A wall of them blocked his path, a wall that extended into a field of them. He leaned back and looked at the name on the door again, just to be sure. It was his name alright. He turned back to the sunflowers and stared at them, then started to slowly push his way through. What happened to his desk and his computer? What happened to his file cabinets? For that matter, what happened to the walls and floor? And wasn't his office on the third story?

Suddenly overcome by a sense of dread, he turned to go back, but found the office building gone. In its place stood an old farmhouse. He stared at it open-mouthed. Then, moving in a daze, he slowly went toward it, and slowly put he hand out to the wall, unbelievingly, almost afraid to touch it.

"Watch where you're going," said one of the sunflowers. "You're about to step on her."

He paused, his head turned slightly to the side. A sunflower talked? Somehow that didn't seem normal. Then he slowly looked down. The skinny lower legs of a woman were sticking out from under the building. He jumped back.

"I'd take her shoes," said the sunflower. "That's what I'd do."

"Oh I couldn't. That would be robbing a dead person. What would I do with them anyway?"

"Wear them, of course."

"They're women's shoes and they're too small anyway."

"It doesn't matter. They stretch to fit anyone. You're going to need them later, trust me. Better get busy, you haven't got very long."

He gingerly reached down and started to take them off. They seemed to be made of orange peels, though remarkably tough ones. He turned one over and looked at the sole. It had Florida stamped on it. "What are these, anyway?"

"They're the orangy slippers, of course. Now you'd really better hurry up."

Getting both slippers off, he started to straighten up and back away from the body, when it suddenly said, "I saw that."

"Pay no attention," said the sunflower. "That's just residual magic. A house fell on her. You don't really think she's still alive, do you?"

He stared at the body, uncertain. "If she's really alive I can't just leave her like that."

"Well, go ahead and try to pull her out if you must, though it's not going to do much good with the house on top of her like that. I wouldn't bother, myself. I'm sure you're going to regret it."

He reached down and carefully took hold of her ankles and began to pull back on them. Nothing happened. He pulled harder, then harder, putting his whole back into it. Still nothing happened. Suddenly the feet and legs curled up, going around his hands like a snake. He screeched and let go, falling back and sitting on the ground. The legs and feet continued to curl up, and disappeared under the house.

"Yep, that's a sure sign of death. At least around here."

The man stared at the place the legs had disappeared into, a strained look on his face. Then he buried his face in his hands, then suddenly jerked them away from his face as he remembered what they had been touching. "How do I get back?" he said in a small tense voice.

"Well, you could go and see the powerful and operatic Wizard of Awes. He's supposed to be able to do a lot of things."

"Operatic?"

"Well, not technically operatic, but he does go in for a lot of special effects. He's a bit of a braggart, but don't worry. He seldom actually smites anyone."

He considered this for a while. Finally he said, "How do I get there?"

"You see that glittery line over there, a couple of hundred feet to your right, partly hidden by the sunflowers? That's the road that leads to Awes."

"Why is it glittery?"

"Because it's made with brick that have pieces of broken ginger jars sticking out of them. It's the Ginger Brick Road."

"They expect people to walk on that?"

"Sure, people who want to get to Awes, and who have good sturdy shoes. It keeps out the riffraff. At least the shoeless riffraff."

"Why don't they just walk through the sunflowers beside it?"

There was a long pause, while the sunflower seemed to stare at him through invisible eyes. Finally it said, in a somewhat strangled voice, "Because not everyone here is an uncouth as you are."

The man looked at the glittery line of road that led off to the city of Awes. This was all starting to seem a little too familiar.

"Look, why don't I skip all this and just put the shoes on and click the heels together while saying there's no place like home."

There was another long pause, and he could again feel the sunflower's unseen eyes upon him. "I guess you could," it said slowly, "but why would you?"

"To get home, of course."

"Why, um, do you think it would get you home?" it said slowly and carefully, like it was dealing with a crazy man.

"Because that's how it's done."

"It is? Well, if you, er, say so, though I've never heard of such a thing. I really wouldn't count on it."

"If the shoes aren't for that, then what are they for?"

"For walking on the road, of course. They're magic, and the road can't hurt them."

He looked out toward the road again, a somewhat stricken look on his face. "Isn't there anyway we could get the Wizard to come here?"

"It's never been done, but I have this emergency signal watch that was left here by a young red-haired guy. You might try that." A leaf held the watch out to him and he took it. He stood there fiddling with it awhile, then it abruptly starting emitting a zee-zee-zee sound. There was a flash and a man in late middle age appeared before him, holding the hand of a child. They were both dressed entirely in yellow.

"Well, what is it?" the Wizard said. "We were just about to watch the parade."

"There's always a parade," the little girl said. "At least this is something different."

"Who's this, your daughter?"

"Why, no, this is my lovely wife..."

"You have a child bride?"

"She's not a child, she's older than you are. She's just really, really, short." He winced as she bent down and viciously bit his knee.

"Not that there's anything wrong with that! It must be nice to be short! Much better than being tall!"

The woman straightened, smiling and showing somewhat ragged looking teeth, with some missing.

"What happened to her teeth?"

"I'm afraid it's a rather common affliction in the Lemonade City of Awes," he said. "Particularly for those who don't brush their teeth religiously." The woman opened her mouth and started to turn toward his knee again. "Not that there's anything wrong with it! You are lovely anyway! Even more lovely because of it! I wish my teeth were like that!"

"Look, I'm trapped here. I don't have time for all this. I need to get back to the office."

"Well, why didn't you say so. Here, take these magic beans. Put them in your mouth and cover them with spit, then plant them and step back."

The man took them and stared at them doubtfully. "What happens then?"

"No one knows. We were hoping to find out."

The man looked up, desperation on his face. "What is this, some kind of plot? I've got to get back!"

The Wizard stared at him, his head tilted back a bit, a slight look of fear in his eyes. "Well, you could put a magic bean in each ear, then tilt your body forward with your arms sticking straight out to the sides, and go round and round the farmhouse, like a winged monkey in a holding pattern, while saying over and over 'I gave at the office.'"

The man stared coldly at him, his eyes narrowed, not saying anything.

"Really. That's how it's done." The Wizard looked uncomfortable. "Really."

"Why am I saying I gave at the office? That's something a person at home would say."

"I don't know. That's just how it is. Really."

The man's eyes lowered, and a feeling of resignation crept over him. He looked at the beans in his hand. Well, I've got nothing to lose but more of my dignity, he thought. "I'm really going to be back?"

"Really."

"That's music to my ears," the sunflower murmured. "I've never seen a crazier person."

The man started to put the beans in his ears.

"Er, could you turn the watch off before you go?" the Wizard said. "It's most annoying."

The man stared at the watch he was holding. He had forgotten it was still sending out the signal. He fiddled with it, but it wouldn't turn off.

"If you can't turn it off, at least take it with you," the Wizard said.

"Or you could stay here," the woman said, grinning broken-toothed at him. "I have a twin sister who's still single. She's almost as pretty as I am. We used to be super models."

"A twin sister? Twin super models? A pretty twin... marry..." He realized he was babbling. "Sorry, I'm, um, already married."

"Not here you aren't. Don't worry, your wife back there will never know."

He stared at her, his eyes big. "I've really got to get back."

He put the beans in his ears and, still holding the watch, stuck his arms out to the sides and leaned forward and went round and round the farmhouse, saying I gave at the office, I gave at the office. Suddenly, he was falling into darkness, falling, falling....

The Wizard walked over and picked up the beans and the watch. He held the watch in his hands, looking at it intently, and fiddled with it for a while. "I sure wish there was some way we could turn this off," he sighed.

The man landed on his side on the carpeted floor of a darkened room. The zee-zee sound was still going on. He desperately clawed his way up the dresser and turned off the alarm. "I've got to get to the office!" he murmured. "I'm late."

"Get back in bed, you idiot," his wife said. "It's Saturday! And by the way, you were talking in your sleep. What's this about marrying pretty twin super models?"

The shoe salesman's cigarette

We moved away from a small town in Missouri in the early summer of 1960, heading for other states and eventually settling on Arizona. We went back almost every year for a visit, usually staying for around a month in August, while my father went back to Arizona to work. We also moved back there for a while in late 1965, leaving again tn the summer of 1966. On one of these times, probably in 1961-63, when I would have been around 8 to 10 years old, my mother took me into a shoe store to buy me some new shoes.

The shoe salesman was a young man who smoked, as was common in those days, and he smoked a cigarette while waiting on us. He talked to my mother quite a bit, too, mostly about shoes, I think, what shoes he had and what might be available, even about what other stores in other towns might have, and also perhaps some about the town and some of the people there. My mother kept asking him questions, about the shoes and other things. I'm not sure now about everything that was talked about, and I don't think I paid a lot of attention at the time.

Finally, after what seemed like a long time, we had decided on what shoes to by and went to the cash register to pay for them. The cash register was at the end of a long glass display case that ran along the right side of the room, at a place where the display case turned and faced the front. The cash register was on the left side of the short section of display case there. The shoe salesman walked up on the inside side of the display case, and we walked around the outside.

As he came up to the cash register, he put his cigarette down in an ashtray on the counter, about in the middle of the short section of counter there. As he rang up the sale, he continued to talk to my mother, and she continued to ask him questions.

I started blowing on the cigarette, trying to see if I could put it out, more out of boredom than anything else. Blowing on it caused it to briefly glow much brighter, and burn more of the cigarette, but then it would go back to normal again. I kept blowing on it, and it gradually got dimmer. It was taking a long time, though. The shoe salesman glanced at me once or twice, but usually looked toward my mother, who he kept talking to. I think at least once he picked up the cigarette and inhaled on it briefly, then put it back down. I kept blowing on it, though, when it was in the ashtray. and eventually, finally, I put it out. My mother and the shoe salesman continued to talk for a little while, and then my mother and I left.

After we got out of the store, my mother scolded me, leaning toward me and saying in a low voice, "I'm so embarrassed! You blew out that nice man's cigarette! And after he was so nice to us!"

Dream - Low purple clouds and mutant creatures

Long ago, perhaps in the mid to late 1970s, I had a dream of very low purple clouds, perhaps low enough to touch, with heavy black outlines. The sky was covered with them, but light still came through somehow, either through them or through breaks in them. The clouds seemed unnatural. It was very ominous and worrisome.

Sometimes I went out and looked at them, and sometimes I looked at them from inside, through the windows of my house. My mother was there, and sometimes I talked to her about them while I looked out the window. Other things also went on in the dream, though I don't remember what now, but I kept worrying about the clouds and going to check on them.

Later on I walked down a sidewalk, a little tensely, heading east, still worrying about the clouds. It seemed to be somewhere around the middle of the day, perhaps the middle of the afternoon. The clouds were a little higher when I started out, and got much higher for much of the time, becoming a purplish gray overcast.

I'm not sure what destination I had in mind, or if I really had one. A few possibilities did go through my mind, places I might go or should go, but I wasn't really heading for them, just going in their general direction.

One of the things I should do was see my father, who was at work several miles away to the southeast. In some versions of the scene I think I did contact him or even go to him, but in other versions I didn't. He was expected to come home later that day, but I felt it was important to contact him first, to warn him about the clouds. I did come to feel that he knew about the situation, that he had been told somehow by someone, but I still worried. I also came to see in my mind, several times, him driving home, sometimes not far away now, with someone with him, perhaps my mother or perhaps someone else. It was later in the afternoon, though, when that happened, almost like I was temporarily ahead in time. It's possible, too, that the part about my father was actually part of a different dream, one that I had a decade or two later, but it's hard to know for sure now.

I continued to walk along the sidewalk, heading east. The clouds were lower now, though still high, and it was no later than the middle of the afternoon.

Strange, mutant creatures began to follow me, generally from a distance. Sometimes I walked by some of them, too, and sometimes I saw some a hundred feet or so away off to the side.

The earlier ones tended to be more human in appearance, though rather brutish, like ogres or even cavemen. The very first ones were probably bald, though with a slight stubble of hair on their heads and faces. A little later some of them had mops of dark hair, and sometimes hair like what might be produced by putting a bowl over their heads and cutting off everything under it. As time went on, stranger and stranger ones showed up.

There were not large numbers of them, and they tended to be in ones or twos or threes. The numbers increased over time, and I started to see large groups of them, standing in broad lines facing toward me. They generally had frowns on their faces and sometimes slight smiles. They seemed to have an interest in me, though a mild and somewhat confused one, like they weren't sure yet what to do. I felt that they were directed by someone, though, someone far away. Someone who had sent them after me, but who had not yet told them what to do when they found me.

As I walked, I came increasingly into a more developed area, part of a town. After a while, I was walking along a line of extremely strange and warped looking creatures. They seemed to radiate a kind of vague, amused malevolence. The clouds were much lower now, not far overhead.

I eventually came to a low, dark building, perhaps a restaurant, facing me on a cross street. I went in. Looking outside, I saw lots of the bizarre creatures gathering together on the sidewalk, forming a long line that was sometimes two or three creatures deep. They were not overly tall, tending to be mostly somewhere in the three to five foot area, though an occasional one was taller. Some of them had big shoulders and short necks, sometimes no necks at all. Some of them had very long arms, frequently with short legs. Many of them had very wide mouths, cartoonishly wide. They murmured among themselves, making strange growly sounds. Some of them were looking toward the building, and some were even looking vaguely in my direction, though generally in an unfocused way. They milled around out there, waiting, growing in numbers. It was scary.

Dream - Low purple clouds and disaster

Long ago, perhaps in the mid 1980s, I had a dream of very low purple clouds, low enough at times to touch. There were flashes and tornados in the clouds, I think even a disastrously large tornado or two. I think maybe a UFO or two as well. Most of the time I watched the clouds from the ground, but I think I also flew above them at times. The clouds were very threatening and seemed like a psychic phenomenon of some kind, and could somehow bring about or carry with them something that could bring about the end of the world.

Dream - My grandmother is younger and admires herself in the mirror

In mid December 2005, I had a dream in which my grandmother, looking much younger, came to visit and admired herself in the mirror, then light bulbs started burning out.

In the dream, my grandmother, who died in late 1984, suddenly arrived at my house without explanation. She looked decades younger, and stood straight and had mostly dark hair. My mother insisted that my grandmother, her mother, would leave by tomorrow.

At some point, my grandmother went into the bathroom and stood in front of the mirror, which is very large and very wide, and admired herself. She now had dark hair with red tints. The hair became much longer, perhaps a couple of feet long, and she took the end of it and held it with one hand, admiring it in the mirror and smiling. I stood nearby, in the hallway I think, watching. I think my mother was sometimes to my right, and sometimes in the kitchen or living room.

All of a sudden light bulbs started burning out, lots of them, and it was getting dark inside. It was late in the day and would probably get dark outside soon. I searched for more bulbs in a long, wide shelf in the kitchen cupboard, but all I found was plastic pipe fittings and joints and decorative bulbs and fixtures.

Dream - I was Art Bell, and flying

On May 28, 2007, I dreamed I was Art Bell, a late-night radio talk show host who is now largely retired but occasionally guest-hosts, and I was flying and eventually chased by a small dinosaur.

In the dream, I was Art Bell, in the dark in the back yard of what was apparently my grandmother's house in Arizona. I was out near the alley behind a long desk that roughly faced toward the house but was at an angle to it. Some other people were there, but they went back inside the house. My chair started spinning around rapidly, and then started sailing rapidly backward through the air. I didn't mind either situation, as I thought that either one might help to have an out-of-body experience.

Soon after, it was daylight, though not very bright, and I was going over and among some brick or brownstone buildings. I went through a wall, but it was difficult and slowed me down considerably and was not very pleasant. A little later, I went up through the ceiling of another building and this was a little easier, though the part I went through was thinner and less massive a structure than the wall had been.

After a while, I was at what was apparently a place like the north end of an elementary school I used to attend, and going around the end of the building toward the playground. I was also watching separately from the air from a little distance away. The area was apparently some kind of government or military testing area, and I was worried that the Art Bell figure didn't know that and might be discovered. I watched and waited to see what might happen.

A tall black person in some kind of military uniform came and was looking at the door, which faced the street, that the Art Bell figure had just come from. The military figure looked similar to some movie or TV star, but I can't remember who. The military had some kind of secret program that involved the paranormal, and I was afraid that they might be able to detect the Art Bell figure even though he was supposedly invisible due to just being in an astral body at the time. The military figure was looking suspiciously at the door and he had some device that he was moving to different parts of the door and frame.

Finally he came around the building to the playground/yard area, and Art Bell was in the air perhaps 10 feet high and maybe 10-15 feet away. The military figure didn't seem able to see Art Bell, but seemed to feel that there was something there somewhere and he had some device that he was looking at. A dog was also now with him that seemed to be interested in something that was approximately where Art Bell was.

Art Bell was now holding what seemed to be a camera with a long leather strap, though later the strap turned, at times, to a much longer string. He attempted to use the strap/string to hook the device the man was holding, but eventually got the dog with it instead. He swung the dog on the string in long arcs back and forth while the man stood there, looking interested but confused, as he apparently just saw the dog going back and forth in the air, without seeing Art Bell or even the string.

Art Bell eventually let the dog go and started trying to get away. He went some north but mostly west, flying high over areas of low, somewhat dry-looking grass or bare ground and large, low buildings with yards that may have sometimes been paved. Low walls and small roads ran through the area, separating things, and the walls frequently connected to and surrounded the buildings. After a while the buildings ended and a large area of grass followed, which ended abruptly in a stretch of bare ground. Shortly afterward, he came to a very tall block wall that he barely made it to the top of, as he was having difficulty flying high at that point. He rested briefly at the wall and then went over it.

On the other side was a desert area with a series of other walls forming long pens containing genetic experiments with animals, including the restoration of long extinct animals, including dinosaurs, though frequently with modifications. I, as Art Bell, soared high above them. They were generally large and vicious animals, frequently on two legs or able to stand on two legs. They looked at me and some of them leaped high, several times their height, to try and bite me. One animal, standing on two legs, had a head that was very broad but flattened top-to-bottom and front-to-back, and seemed to be mostly a broad empty mouth with some somewhat widely spaced sharp teeth well back in it. It leaped so high that I felt its hot breath on me, around my stomach slightly below the belt. It was in a very localized area, though, not like one would expect from something that was huge. I came to realize that the animals were in fact very small, generally around a foot and a half high, and I was not nearly as high above the ground as I thought.

Eventually I came to a Tyrannosaurus rex, or something like one. It was significantly taller and much more massive than the others, perhaps somewhere around three or four feet high, though the size seemed to vary a bit with time. The general shape of it was right, but it seemed to be composed of various sections of different, usually very bright colors, and had a rubber/plastic look. Some areas were flesh colored, including its arms, which were human-like and had somewhat oversized human-like hands. I think some of the other colors were blue-purple and red. It leaped at me, and managed to come down outside its fence and started trying to track me. I was flying lower by then and was having trouble getting much altitude.

I came to some structure that was basically a miniature rectangular metal building similar to the Eiffel Tower in construction. I was trying to do something with the string/strap and somehow got it entangled with some fence or miniature telephone wires and it became, with the wires, wrapped several times, at different heights, around the building. The T. rex caught up with me and I managed to pull it part way up the building with the string, but it was too entangled with the string and the wires, and pulling on the string eventually caused the string and wires to pull it tight against the building. Finally I abandoned it, apparently breaking the string and taking the camera with me.

I flew on and found an open area and landed. It was desert, sand scattered with various cacti and other desert plants. As I went along, walking, the desert area gradually became part of a very large room in a building. There were various small appliances and other things, including large tables with chairs. I saw a small refrigerator/freezer with an old-fashioned look. It was perhaps three or four feet high and the doors, one on top for a small freezer and another, larger door below it for the refrigerator section, had a somewhat rounded appearance. I opened both of the refrigerator doors, in an attempt to confuse the T. rex when it arrived. I did after a while see it looking around the open doors with a somewhat malicious, interested, hungry look. It still seemed to be looking in my general direction, though, and not in the refrigerator.

Some people started to fill the room and sit at the tables. They were generally very young people, sometimes even grade-school age. I had the feeling that they were the product of genetic experiments trying to make very smart, very psychic children. They were looking around and seemed to be aware that I was there, or that someone was there, even if they couldn't quite see me, though some may have been able to. One of them asked who the guest was today, like this was something normal, like they normally got a different invisible guest every day.

I woke up shortly after that. I was sleeping sitting up in front of the computer, listening to Art Bell on the radio. The news had come on at 3:00 AM, between segments of the replay of the show. I apparently fell asleep around 15 or 20 minutes till 3:00, perhaps even 25 till. It was very early Monday morning.

Wordzzle 69 - The spill

This is my contribution to this week's Wordzzle. Wordzzle is a game in which each week word lists, used to create stories, are given on the blog Views from Raven's Nest. Participating users post their stories on their own blogs.

This is the thirteenth time I've played the game.


Ten Word Challenge:

Chorus line,
clam chowder,
apples,
jack-in-the-box,
puddles,
Iran,
quarry,
housekeeping,
speed,
letter

The clam chowder, imported from Iran, lay in puddles on the floor. The jack-in-the-box, bobbing for apples, paused and looked at it, then went back to bobbing. The chorus line of small mechanical dolls continued their practice session, pointedly ignoring what had happened. A small mechanical maid rolled up and looked at the mess. She clucked at it and shook her head, then began cleaning it up with great speed.

"I work and I work and my housekeeping is never done," she said. "In fact, it is getting sabotaged. I will track down who did this, and when I find my quarry, which I'm sure will be the mechanical butler, I will give him a good talking to. Then I will report him to the Master, in a detailed, emotional letter of great length. And it will be an actual letter, a beautiful handwritten one. No one here answers my emails."


Mini Challenge:

motorcycle,
grandiose,
summer,
flying off the handle,
blue jays

It was summer, and the motorcycle went along in grandiose fashion, with black paint and red and yellow flames and white skulls on it, and blue jays perched on the handle. The exhaust was roaring and rumbling, and the rider went along with a big satisfied smile on his face, his hair and beard blowing in the wind. As he went by a pretty girl, he turned his head and winked, then hit a pothole which sent him tumbling into the bushes and the blue jays flying off the handle.

Hovering in the air, the blue jays looked at the sad situation. "I'll never understand his taste in women," one of them finally said. "She didn't even have any feathers."


Mega challenge:

Chorus line,
clam chowder,
apples,
jack-in-the-box,
puddles,
Iran,
quarry,
housekeeping,
speed,
letter

motorcycle,
grandiose,
summer,
flying off the handle,
blue jays

The jack-in-the-box was missing, and no one knew where he was. He had been gone since the beginning of summer, and many grandiose theories circulated. Some thought he had been caught stealing apples, and had to go on the lam. Some thought his head had popped out of the box much faster than the speed limit, and he was now in jail. Some said it had something to do with the clam chowder, which was also missing. Others insisted he was in Iran as a spy, doing who knows what. One of the mechanical chorus line insisted that he was in a rock quarry carving statues with speedy impacts of his head, but that was so far-fetched not even the rest of the chorus line believed it.

The motorcycle owner heard the murmuring, he could hardly avoid it, but was more concerned about what to do about the housekeeping, since the mechanical maid had quit. Those things were expensive, and he didn't know they could just walk off like that. Perhaps he should have paid more attention to her letter. He was trying to save up some money now, too, to repaint the motorcycle. Maybe he could find a used maid somewhere. He had tried to get the mechanical butler to do all the housekeeping, but it had started flying off the handle, going on and on about something or other. He was never able to make much sense of it and finally gave up.

Brooding, he picked up one of the apples and began to eat it. He had found them a few days ago in a bucket of water. He had no idea why someone would do that. He had had to take them all out and then empty the bucket. There always seemed to be something. He needed to get away from this, he couldn't think anymore about things right now. He finished the apple and started to throw the core on the floor, then hesitated, and finally tossed it in the trash instead. He then went out to the garage.

He looked sadly at his motorcycle, covered with scratches and dents. At least it still ran. The blue jays were suspicious of it, though, since the accident.

He picked up his helmet and looked at it, wondering if he should wear it. He certainly could have used it last time. He finally began to put it on, but then found he couldn't get his head in it. There was something already inside.

Frowning, he turned it over. There was some kind of box in it. Somebody had stuck a box in his helmet. He stared at it for a moment, baffled. He put his fingers in beside it, then, and tried to pull it out, but it was in really tight and he could only get his fingers in a little ways. Shifting position, he moved the helmet under one arm and started slowly working the box back and forth slightly, slowly moving it out. Suddenly it came loose and flipped over and the head of the jack-in-the-box shot toward him. "B-BLAAAHHH!" the motorcycle owner screamed, stumbling back and falling into some oil puddles.

"Boy, that mechanical maid sure does hold a grudge," said the jack-in-the-box. "I'll never understand how she found out it was me."

The One Lovely Blog Award

On Tuesday, June 23, 2009, I was given the One Lovely Blog Award from Akelamalu on her blog Everything And Nothing.



This is the first blog award I have received, and I really appreciate it. Thank you, Akelamalu!

The rules for the award, as taken from Akelamalu's blog, are:

1. Accept the award, post it on your blog together with the name of the person who has granted the award and his or her blog link.
2. Pass the award to 15 other blogs that you have newly discovered. Remember to contact the bloggers to let them know they have been chosen for this award.

I have given a link to her blog in the first sentence of this post, but here is a link to the specific post that gave the award. It also has the names and links of the people she gave the award to and the person she got it from, as well as a set for another award she received. You may want to check out the blogs she linked to in the post.

Everything And Nothing: Lovely Blog.....

As for my own set of 15 blogs, I'm afraid I am not going to find many that haven't already received the award, as I don't actually visit a large number of blogs. Most of the ones lately have been ones who participated in the Wordzzle story writing exercises, and I think most of them either have already received the award or will soon receive it from other people. I'll keep it in mind, but I'll have to put it off until a possible future date.

The New Product

This is a story that I did for a message board, on a thread normally concerned with comically constructing new words and definitions. They were at that time doing exercises where someone gave a short list of words and the others each wrote a story containing those words. Then someone else would supply a list of words and the process would start all over again.

The story is changed slightly here in that it is broken up into three paragraphs instead of being contained in just one.

This is another of my stories from my post number 1000 for that message board. The other stories were separate from this one, with their own lists of words. The list of words for this story: firm, salability, highroad, echo, vanish.

This story is dated 9:23 PM, December 1, 2006, Arizona time (MST).


THE NEW PRODUCT

He had tried to take the highroad, convinced in the salability of his product. His commitment to it was firm.

All he heard, though, was the sound of his own voice, and the echo of it around him, fading slowly in the distance. And thus, hearing no opposition (or, perhaps, refusing to hear it), he remained convinced that he was on the right track.

Alas, his new stain remover removed the cloth as well, and his dreams, like the stains, would soon vanish.

Dream - The man whose head opened on a hinge and whose brain fell out

Long ago, probably around 1962-64, I had a dream about a man whose head opened on a hinge and whose brain fell out. I would have been around 9 to 11 years old. It could have been slightly earlier, but not much.

In the dream, there was a house with large and numerous windows. It was night and the house was lit up inside and filled with people. I think a party of some kind might have been going on. I believe I was originally inside the house, but then my consciousness or viewpoint moved outside and I saw someone looking in.

He was a slim young man with dark hair, and was perhaps ten feet from the windows at the longer side of the room, cautiously approaching them, leaning forward slightly, looking in. After a while, he walked around the corner of the house and looked in from that side, just a few feet from the windows now. He didn't seem to be dangerous, just curious about what was happening and enjoying watching it. There was a peacefulness about it, mixed with alertness, and he seemed happy.

The top of his head opened up on a hinge from the back, then, exposing his brain. Then his brain came out of his head. In some versions of the scene, which repeated itself for a while, it lifted up some and then fell out, and in other versions it sometimes hung in the air above and behind him a little, connected to the inside of his head by a bent plastic-looking gray cord.

He kept looking in the windows, his mouth open in a smile and his teeth hidden behind his lips. He seemed not to be greatly disturbed by what had happened, though it did have some effect. It bothered me, though, and I worried about it.

In real life around that time, there was some trouble with someone looking in people's windows at night, and that probably influenced the dream.

Dream - Pizza-size pancakes, transparent figures in the sky

On Sunday, July 24, 2007, sometime during the day, I had a dream about pizza-size pancakes being delivered, and then seeing transparent figures in the sky.

In the dream, I was at the radiator shop. Unlike in real life, a tall, maybe 10 foot high, flat, green, metal fence was in the back, almost screen-like. I'm not sure what the timeframe was. It might have been in the late 1970s or early 1980s.

A Michel's Supply truck came and parked in the dirt and gravel parking lot in the front, somewhat to the left side, as determined when facing out toward the street. It was at a slight angle, with the back of the truck toward the shop. A man with a beard tried to unload a large, steaming hot box of pizza-sized pancakes (he had heated them up in the truck). He had the box in a two-wheeled dolly, and turned toward the shop and started going across the lot to take it inside. A second box was in the truck, apparently to be unloaded next. Other people were up in the truck bed, working, moving boxes, apparently ones for other places.

I was hungry and the pancakes looked inviting, but I tried to explain that I didn't order them. He wanted to give them to me anyway. We argued about it for a while, standing in the parking lot between the truck and the shop. He went back to the truck, then, leaving the dolly with the box of pancakes, and came back with a small book of invoices, which he held out and showed to me. They had my signature on them, but none of them were for the pancakes and none of them were recent. He finally turned the dolly with the pancakes around to take them back, but turned his head back to me with a somewhat sardonic look and asked when I was going to pay the previous bills. I wasn't sure how much cash I had on me, maybe none, and I didn't think I had much money in the checking account, maybe not enough to cover other things I had to pay, and I looked away and kind of nonchalantly said something like, "Oh, sometime..."

After a while I went out into the street. It was getting toward night. I looked up and saw some dark clouds and thought that if I concentrated I could fly up to them and through them, to somewhere else. I tried, and after a little while managed to fly up to them, but they changed to a mass of small, heavy-outlined transparent figures turned this way and that, seeming to be caught in the act of running.

I went through them and found myself in a restaurant. It had some people, but not a large number. I was in a booth near a window with someone, perhaps my father. Other people were there that I knew, in other booths or standing in various places.

Dream - Presents for my father, and then strange gnomes or leprechauns and animal people

In the middle of the night on October 17, 2008, I had a dream about wrapping presents for my father and carrying them around, and seeing gnomes or leprechauns and strange animal-people along the way.

In the dream, I went out to a huge, mostly empty parking and driving area that was dirt with a faint mixture of thin asphalty dirt and gravel on top. I think it had something to do with the military. It seemed to be around the middle of the day, maybe around noon.

A low building, possibly bluish gray, was associated with the parking lot. There wasn't much else around, maybe some isolated small buildings beyond the road and not part of where we were. It seemed like a rural area, but I'm not sure where it was or even what state it was in. Later in the dream, though, I was definitely in Nevada.

I went to where my car was parked, probably the dark blue 1987 Oldsmobile. There was a crude wooden table in front of it. I think I sat in the air for a while, but at some point I went over to the table. I had a legal pad, but it might have had white paper instead of yellow.

I had a lot of strange words written down in heavy dark block letters, several paragraphs on at least one page and part of another. I think they were in pencil. They were things that were partially or wholly in a different language. Even the characters were odd, possibly like Russian, but it also had odd symbols that weren't part of an alphabet. I think it was supposed to be in a code of some kind. I was puzzling over it and I think sometimes writing some. I might have even been adding to it.

Then I started to wrap a present for my father. The other members of the family were back in the building also wrapping things. It might have been for my father's birthday, which in real life was near. It doesn't seem to have been for Christmas.

There were two items that I had to wrap. I had some slightly greenish blue, shiny heavy wrapping paper with a slight iridescence. I was out at the old table and had the legal pad. It had only a couple of pages or so now. I was using it as something to set the present on. It had some lines drawn down the left side along the margin and across the top a similar distance from the edge. I drew some more as I worked. Maybe I was trying to keep the present a certain distance from the edge. I finally tore the remaining pages out. I guess I decided to use the cardboard back of the tablet as a backing for the present. I got the first present wrapped. It was fairly flat, perhaps half an inch or an inch thick, whatever the present was.

Then I had the second present to wrap. It was a small yellow-orangish tan bowl with almost vertical pleated edges. I wanted to make it more attractive and put something in it. I put some small red beans in it from a can, filling the bowl perhaps two thirds of the way. I didn't know if he liked red beans. I wasn't even sure how much I liked them. They looked good as a demonstration of what could be done though, and it wasn't going to be long till we opened the presents, maybe a couple of hours, so they were unlikely to spoil. I put some wrapping paper along the sides and then somehow attached it to the middle of the other present. I then wrapped some thin red ribbon around it and made a bow, though I kept the ribbon away from the top of the bowl. The others back in the building were getting anxious to go. I went back to the building and we left. I think my father was with us.

We stopped at what was apparently a drugstore, though sometimes it seemed more like a small grocery store. We went around in it and back and forth down some of the aisles looking at things. I think I was still carrying the present. My mother and at least one or maybe both of my sisters were in the group. I'm not sure whether my brother was there. I looked at some other things that I might buy to go with the present.

At one side of the store were some little things, including some kind of white figurines, elves or gnomes maybe. The others had gone off to a different area and left me behind. They had gone toward the cash registers and one or maybe two came back and were asking me to hurry up so we could go, then most or all of them came back and we started quickly going partially down the aisles and through the middle of the store looking at things. There was an area with a lot of wrapping paper and some tape. It was getting toward Christmas and they had a big display of it that ran around the end of an aisle or two there at the middle of the store.

I found there also a bunch of white or pale elves or leprechauns, larger than the ones I saw before and evidently intended to be hung like ornaments. They seemed to be made of some kind of thin glass. I considered getting one or more, but finally decided not to at this time. The others were in a hurry to leave and we left. I think the others or maybe just my mother bought something, but I'm not sure what, possibly food, possibly something to do with the gifts.

We were coming in toward Fallon, Nevada then from the east, from the direction of work. We were in at least two cars, going along in the section of road that ran near the Navy base. I'm under the impression that we had come from some kind of picnic. It was getting late in the afternoon now.

I decided that I needed to unwrap the present and took the wrapping paper off. I let the wrapping go and fall by the road a little ways after we turned the corner where the service station was. I was slightly concerned about doing that but it didn't seem to matter too much. At least my father had a chance to see it wrapped up, though it may not have been a close look. It still bothered me a little, but I felt it needed to be done, that we needed to move the process along quickly.

Still outside of town, I noticed off to the left in a big yard two or three people, including someone from work, maybe the short older man who had retired a while back, and I was trying to point him out to my mother, so she could see who I worked with. I saw some other people too as we went along, but they changed to some kind of largish leprechauns or gnomes the height of a small human. The car I was in was also changing, becoming more of a platform with me on it face down and then shrinking to hardly anything before coming at least partially back.

I parked it in someone's yard a short way into town. I was alone now and had been that way for a little while, since just before coming into town. I parked along where the yard dipped down near the street and then sloped back up some. Apparently the dip was used for drainage and so I hoped they wouldn't mind too much me parking there.

Some people were in the yard near the house. They had bone-white ramlike horns on the sides of their heads and goatlike faces. Other people were out around in the general area that were also strange, at least a couple of others also having horns on the sides of their heads, but darker and a little differently shaped. Some of the people seemed to be gnomes or elves or leprechauns or some type of partly animal person. It was very strange, but I felt that this was how they actually looked, that the human disguises they had previously used had faded away or been abandoned, purposely so.

I was walking quickly and looking out for somewhere I might get a newspaper, though I wasn't sure if I should try to get one now. I was still carrying the present.

I went past the street that leads to the south, toward Arizona, and wandered around. The people in this area looked more normal I think. There was a lot of redevelopment going on because of some military thing. The light was getting dimmer like it was around sundown or a little after. It felt more like early morning, though. I think I might have found and talked to my father briefly, or at least saw him.

I walked back toward the street that leads toward Arizona. The grocery store at the corner had the raised parking lot cut back some along the sides, with an angle cut at the corner, leaving sloping walls of dirt and crumbly asphalt. It looked like they were preparing to widen the street there.

I met a military person, apparently someone in intelligence, who talked to me in serious, earnest terms about the differences in prices between here and Indiana, giving a couple of items as examples, gas and some food item I think, where the prices on those items here were around half what they were in Indiana. I think the gas was 5 something in Indiana and 2 something here. He seemed to be expecting a lot of people to move out here and cause a boom in the area, or at least he was hinting at it. I wasn't sure if the low prices would continue if the demand picked up enormously, like it would if a whole bunch of people moved out here, but I didn't say so. (In real life I was probably listening to the Wall Street Journal news hour on the radio at that point.)

Wordzzle 68 - Bass notes

This is my contribution to this week's Wordzzle. Wordzzle is a game in which each week word lists, used to create stories, are given on the blog Views from Raven's Nest. Participating users post their stories on their own blogs.

This is the twelfth time I've played the game.


Ten Word Challenge:

sow,
close,
console,
lives,
minute,
polish,
bass,
pussy,
complex,
resume

"I'll be with you in a minute," the sow said. "Just as soon as I polish off this bass they gave me. I don't usually get such treats."

"They gave you a bass?" the pussy cat said, rising up from the old stereo console it had been laying on. "That was my bass! Give it to me!"

The sow looked up. "I will not. And if you even try to get it you're going to lose one or two of your lives. Maybe even three or four." It then lowered its head and resumed eating.

"Well, this is obviously more complex than I thought," the cat said. "If they gave it to you its probably spoiled anyway. I don't want it." And it jumped off the console and walked away, it's nose pointed up and its mouth closed, and a haughty expression on its face.

The sow snorted at it and dug into the bass some more, when all of a sudden something landed on its back. Startled, the sow turned its head around, its mouth half open with the bass still in it. Something on its back moved like a streak and yanked the bass out of its mouth, then leaped off and ran across toward the fence. The sow turned around some more to get a better look and saw that it was the cat. "I thought you said you didn't want it, that it was probably spoiled," the sow yelled.

"I just couldn't make myself leave without checking, you know how curious cats are. Mmmmm, it sure is good, I guess I was wrong after all." And then it and the bass were under the fence and away.


Mini Challenge:

bow,
sewer,
house,
import,
intern

"I have new sewer pipes," the house said. "And new water pipes, and new wiring. I also have new insulation and a new furnace. I even have nice bows across the toilets, with ribbon that says 'Sanitized for your protection.' Everything is perfect."

"That sounds very nice," the man said, "but I don't know if I can afford you. I'm just an intern and not very important. I don't have much money."

"That's okay," said the house, holding out a contract. "I also have the new math. Sign here."


Mega challenge:

sow,
close,
console,
lives,
minute,
polish,
bass,
pussy,
complex,
resume

bow,
sewer,
house,
import,
intern

The sow tiptoed through the meadow, pussy-footing along. As it came close to the house it lowered itself to the ground and slithered along, snakelike. Finally it paused behind a bush, considering what to do. It had thought it might be able to squeeze through the sewer pipes and get in, but even as fully greased as it was it could see that the pipes were too small for it. Even if the pipes were highly polished it couldn't do it. The situation had gotten a lot more complex, but it couldn't give up now. Minutes passed while it considered its options, and tried to think of new ones. This was a matter of great import. Lives depended on it. Well, technically, its life depended on it. Well, technically, its life didn't depend on it, but it was sure the best food was inside, that the humans were holding out on it. Trying to think what to do, it noticed that one of the basement windows looked like it might be open a little. If it could open it all the way it should be able to slip in easily.

Resuming its careful journey, it crept toward the window. Reaching it, it opened it and slowly and carefully began to back its way through it. Halfway through it, because of all the grease, it suddenly slipped all the way through and landed on something, which promptly broke under it, and the sow half-slid, half-rolled across the floor until it hit a low curved wall.

"Ohhh..." it moaned. "If I wasn't so fat I'd have internal injuries for sure."

It slowly got to its feet, which kept trying to slip out from under it, and lifted itself up and peered over the top of the low wall. It contained water. A big pool of water. What was a big pool of water doing in the basement? Then fish heads started raising out of the water. Big ones. The sow stared at them. Bass? The farmer was raising bass in the basement? Suddenly one leaped at the sow and bit its nose, and another bit it on the ear. The sow squealed, its eyes big, and shook its head violently, dislodging them from its slippery skin. More were coming, though. Lots of them.

The sow stumbled back, and promptly slipped and fell on its rear. Looking back at the wall of the tank, it saw bass leaping up and landing on top of the wall, then flopping and wriggling their way over. They were starting to come out of the tank now!

The sow kicked it way backward across the floor, its eyes big and fixed on the bass that were now flopping their way across the floor toward it. Then its back was against something irregular, and it realized it had reached the remains of whatever it had fallen on when it came in. Turning around it tried to scrabble its way up it to the window, but was unable to, it kept slipping off the uneven, slanting surface. Finally, desperately, feeling them nipping at its back legs and rear, it leaped through the window opening with a squishy, slurping sound. Rolling across the grass, it somehow got to its feet and ran in terror. They were attack bass! The farmer had giant attack bass! It would never be able to get in now!

Inside the basement, the farmer got up from his chair in a darkened corner and walked into the light, carrying a clipboard. "Good job, boys! I reckon she won't be back for a while! You can get back in the tank now." Peering at the clipboard, he moved his pen down the list of animals on it, and when he got to the sow he put a check mark next to it. Then he went and got a whisk broom and a dustpan and bowing down, began to sweep up the pieces of the thing the sow had landed on. "I don't know what it is about these stereo consoles," he sighed. "That's the second one this week."

The Briefcase

This is a story that I did for a message board, on a thread normally concerned with comically constructing new words and definitions. They were at that time doing exercises where a user gave a short list of words and other users then wrote a story containing those words. The story is changed slightly here in that it is broken up into two paragraphs instead of being contained in just one. Unlike most of the other stories I did, this one is more of a fragment of a story than a complete story.

This is another of my stories from my post number 1000 for that message board. The list of words for this story: forest, briefcase, window, evaporate, sneer.

This story is dated 9:23 PM, December 1, 2006, Arizona time (MST).


THE BRIEFCASE

"Look for yourself," I said, and opened the briefcase.

He looked into the briefcase, and saw the window that led into the forest. His sneer slowly began to evaporate.

Dream - The cat in outer space

On April 28, 2009, early in the morning, I had a dream about being a cat in outer space, though earlier I was just observing the cat, and earlier we weren't in outer space.

In the dream, I was in a barren landscape, mostly dirt, though with occasional low vegetation. Two houses were there, separated by some distance. The houses were relatively small, and had small rooms. It was dark.

I spent most of the time at the first house. The second house sometimes had a giant strong figure there, maybe seven or eight feet high, dressed in a dark tight-fitting leather-like suit. He was dangerous, and sometimes even came toward the first house, though I'm not sure he ever got in. The first house had a few simple things in it and was relatively uncluttered, but the second house had very cluttered rooms that seemed to be partly unfinished, with some of the door frames and window sills just raw unpainted wood. It was solidly built, though. I went to the second house sometimes, but had to watch out for the giant because he sometimes showed up.

At some point later in the dream I went over to the second house again and went inside. It was one of the times the giant man was away. I'm not sure now why I went over, whether I had to get something or return something or just wanted to check on things, but I felt I needed to do it. A large, heavy-duty cat went in with me, and I watched it going deeper into the house, down a hallway from room to cluttered room.

The giant man came back, then, and was mad and roaring. The cat tried to get away, going deeper into the house. In the next to the last room that was reached, there was another cat, more normal sized. It was trying to hide up on some shelves, past a sloping pile of random items. The large cat went a little further, going through a glassless window into the next room, which was much smaller, maybe half the size, and even more cluttered, with a ramp of things hiding the floor and going most of the way up the wall that was away from the window. The large cat went partway up the ramp of things and then lay there, flat on its stomach, arms stretched out in front of it, claws out, trapped in the room, looking back at the giant. I became the large cat, then, and came back to the window and perched on the sill. The giant man, who had paused for a moment in the doorway, still making a roaring sound, came in after the cats, concentrating on me. I went along the dividing wall and burrowed into the clutter, making my way toward the outside wall. Low in the outside wall I found what seemed to be a covered hole, and made my way through what felt like layers of thin sections of wood or cardboard and reached the outside.

Outside I was in outer space, and wearing a dark close-fitting padded suit made in big sections and that only partially covered me, and I was sometimes floating in space and sometimes briefly on the very small artificial planet the house now rested on. The planet was so small that a very sharp curvature could be seen even from the surface. The giant man came after me in his own very dark close-fitting space suit with a tether line on it, looking mad like he normally did. I had a tether line, too, but it was short and didn't connect to anything. Though he tried clumsily to reach me, moving around in space was awkward and slow, more for him than for me, and he never got very close to me.


The dream was much longer in the beginning, and we weren't originally on a small world in outer space, though it's possible it might have been a medium size world. It might have even been Earth, though the surroundings were still somewhat strange. It's possible my grandmother may have been in it, too, early in the dream, and it seems like there was a house, maybe the first one, that felt like a modified version of one of hers, either the one in Missouri or Arizona or both.

The dream reminds me of one maybe a year before of being on a planet in another star system, and going out into space from there. I went much farther in the other dream, though, even going from one star system to another.

Dream - Being Aquaman and spinning around

Long ago, probably around 1965, I dreamed about being Aquaman, a comic book superhero who could breathe under water and talk to the sea creatures. As Aquaman, I was in a river heading down to the sea, laying on my back, facing up with my arms and legs out, spinning around like a propeller. I was able to go very fast this way, going at right angles to the axis of the spin, like a Frisbee.

Eventually, before I reached the sea, I got tired and spun slower and slower and finally pretty much stopped. I tried to start up again, and though I got to turning slowly a few times, I couldn't really get going again, I was too tired.

I think someone else was nearby, though not too nearby, someone who I was trying to get away from but also sometimes trying to get. I guess it's possible I was just competing with him in some way, but I have a strong impression he was an enemy, and dangerous. There were also others involved in the search for me, some out looking and some in faraway buildings, sometimes in other states, supervising.

A lot more happened earlier in the dream, before I started spinning. I remember walking through a big marshy area toward the river, in a hurry. Behind me and to my right was a distant building, large and squarish in shape, perhaps two or three stories. Some people in the building were trying to locate me, and I had to get away. I'm not sure what happened before that.

There was also a time in the dream before I was Aquaman, and it seemed to have something to do with Missouri. We lived there when I was very young and moved back for a while in late 1965, leaving again in the summer of 1966. I was in Missouri when I had the dream.

Dream - Something like Superman

On the morning of April 4, 2009, I had a dream of being at a shopping center, and then became Superman, or something like him.

In the dream, I was going back to an L-shaped shopping center with my brother, who is about a year and five months younger than I am. We both seemed to be younger than we are now, perhaps as much as three decades younger, putting us in our twenties.

We had been at the shopping center earlier that day, I think. It was not some place we went to very often. It was kind of out on the edge of things, on the edge of a different town I think. It was an older shopping center.

It was night, and we were walking across the dimly lit parking lot toward a major store, going past the leg of one side of the L, closer to the road than the shopping center. The store we were going to was on the end of the other leg, toward the road. A few other people were around. My brother and I were talking.

Around halfway there, maybe a little more, I began to burp, mostly silently, each time I breathed out. It got worse and worse, until I was even spitting a little. I knew I shouldn't have had that cereal, I thought, annoyed. I tried to suppress it, and by the time we reached the building had pretty much succeeded.

We went in the store, going through the big glass doors. After a while I went out a door to the left that led to the shopping center aisle. I went down the aisle, working my way down the shopping center all the way to the other end. We got separated at some point.

Then the dream seemed to repeat itself, unless what happened before was something that happened at an earlier time. Again we were casually heading across the parking lot to the main store in the dark, but when we reached it we found that it had massive chains across the doors. We looked at each other. Had it gone out of business and closed already? We knew the shopping center was in decline, but hadn't expected this so soon. We went down the shopping center and tried another one, perhaps just an entrance to the shopping center, and that was also chained. We walked along it some more, getting closer to the other end now, and finally found an opening that wasn't chained and went in. We got separated again at some point, and at some point I went back out and was slowly, tiredly walking along in the walk that ran along the outside. It seemed to be getting early morning now, like the sun had just come up.

I went out into the parking lot, and to the dirt beyond it, where there weren't any more buildings. A wind was blowing. I turned and faced it, facing into the sun I think, letting its light wash over me, leaning forward into it with my arms back, palms turned slightly towards it. I leaned forward more and then lifted up into the air, flying low and very fast, the wind rushing against me, my head turned up to face the wind, my arms still trailing back, slightly spread. I flew along with a big smile on my face. I was enjoying it immensely.

I flew toward a section where the land was lifted up in sharp hills, like objects underneath poking up through a stretched, heavy wet blanket. The area was strangely colored, a patchwork of reddish pink and white and charcoal, spongy looking, like meat sliced across the grain, like ham with areas of fat and areas where charcoal smoke had blown across it, leaving a coating. The different colored sections were in different shapes, some larger, some smaller, some more triangular, others squarer with a rounded corner or two, the hills sticking up like bony shoulders or hips trying to break through the meat.

I flew back and forth and around, dizzyingly, getting higher as the hills got higher and higher, wondering if I could do it, wondering if I could keep going higher or if I would fly against them. Finally there were two sharp peaks left and I had to just get past them. I could see the low, slightly rolling land beyond, still oddly colored, the light of the low early morning sun just starting to wash across it. I wondered if I could make it over to it. I didn't have much energy left. I flew toward the peaks, very low, starting to go between them toward the land beyond, as things were graying and fading out...


I woke up on a dark couch in what appeared to be my grandmother's house in Arizona, a house we had lived in before she did. I was on one of two couches in the room. Had it all been a dream? A few other people were there. Nearby was a man who I recognized as my father, but who didn't look anything like my father in real life. He had dark hair and was slim and around medium height, maybe slightly less, and was wearing dark clothes, though the shirt was a little lighter I think. When I woke up he quickly leaned over me, reaching out a hand to touch me. Then he began walking around, looking very agitated.

It seems they had found me laying on the ground somewhere near the shopping center. No one knew what had happened. He kept talking about it, trying to find out or figure out what had happened. There was some worry about me taking drugs (something I have never done). He worried that it was an intentional attempt to kill myself. I didn't have any memory of it, and mostly just stared at him.

Then, finally, after having some discussions with someone, possibly someone who had been out there, he started talking about me flying, and about me being Superman and trying to kill myself. Trying to kill myself, when I had just started to get my powers back. Purposely crashing into the ground from a great height, purposely heading straight down in a nose dive. Someone had seen me do it. They had a witness. My father was very agitated about it, and seemed to think that great things had been planned, things that wouldn't happen if I died.

I just stared at him and didn't say anything. I didn't remember any of that happening. The last thing I remembered was flying and losing consciousness. It did seem possible, though, that I was Superman, or at least a version of him, perhaps an inherently less powerful one.


Then I was somewhere else, a darkened place with a series of rooms. Some other people were there, and it felt like I was Clark Kent, in a transition period when I was starting to go from college to business, though still in college at the moment. It seemed to be a place I was staying with some other people, a place we were just moving into. One of the other people was Lex Luther, looking like the Smallville TV show version of him. Sometimes Clark Kent also looked something like the Smallville TV Lex Luther, though with hair, hair that was a bit shorter and lighter than was normal for him. The hair was combed back but was standing up, not laying down, and was only about one and a half to two inches long. I also watched from outside the scene, from slightly above them, as a disembodied presence.

The people, including me as Clark Kent, walked around in the darkened rooms, calmly, matter of factly talking about things. As we talked, the Clark Kent character kept changing. His face got wider and squarer and older looking, with lines, and his hair grayed some and got thinner, even getting sparse in the back, forming the beginnings of a bald spot. I thought it was strange in someone who was supposed to be so young, and the face didn't look at all like Clark Kent now.

Wordzzle 67 - Bargain basement

This is my contribution to this week's Wordzzle. Wordzzle is a game in which each week word lists, used to create stories, are given on the blog Views from Raven's Nest. Participating users post their stories on their own blogs.

This is the eleventh time I've played the game.


Ten Word Challenge:

nausea,
everything is on sale,
expect great things,
frying pan,
pledge,
birds of a feather,
stick,
Saturday morning,
liver and bacon,
caterpillars

The birds of a feather, carrying a big stick, landed. The caterpillars, having their Saturday morning liver and bacon, watched. The frying pan, fulfilling its pledge, hopped forward.

"Did you have trouble finding it?" it asked the birds.

"It was on sale," said one of the birds. "Everything is on sale today."

The frying pan nodded, then leaned forward and the birds put the stick in it.

"We expect great things," another bird said.

The frying pan nodded again, but less this time. The stick projected beyond it's edge, and it didn't want it to fall out.

It went into the living room, then, where it slowly started turning around and around, tipping itself this way and that to keep the big stick from falling out. It picked up speed, and spun faster and faster, till you'd think it would be suffering from nausea.

Then it suddenly threw the stick at the stepladder, which promptly fell over, sending the cat tumbling. A little bird in a cage hanging from the ceiling sat in its swing and watched, its eyes big and worried.

"Sufferin' succotash," the cat said. "What was that?"

The little bird leaned forward, its eyes narrowing in anger. "Serves you right, you bad old puddy tat! Now go away or I'll hit you again!"


Mini Challenge:

aggravation,
protective,
bargain basement,
take me out to the ballgame,
break a leg

"Take me out to the ballgame," the bargain basement radio played, for the third time in a row. I was starting to feel some aggravation toward it.

"Can't you play anything else?"

"I just do what I'm told."

"Fine, play something else."

"Let me clarify something. I do what I'm told by certain people. You're not one of them."

"If I had spent a little more money, this wouldn't be happening. I just know it."

"Yes, but you're too protective of your wallet. Now you're stuck with me. I think I'll play the song another four or five times, just to make sure you know all the words."

"No! I'd break a leg off you and beat you into little pieces with it, if you had any legs."

"I don't, but you wouldn't anyway. You're too cheap. You couldn't stand to destroy something you paid money for."

"I don't understand it! I've never had these problems with a radio! I've never had one talk back to me, either."

It turned toward him and grinned. "Who said I was a radio?"


Mega challenge:

nausea,
everything is on sale,
expect great things,
frying pan,
pledge,
birds of a feather,
stick,
Saturday morning,
liver and bacon,
caterpillars

aggravation,
protective,
bargain basement,
take me out to the ballgame,
break a leg

"Here's your liver and bacon," she said.

He groaned. "It's Saturday morning. Why do I have to get up so early?"

"You were going to take me out to the ballgame, remember?"

"I just took you to one last night. What is this with ball games? It's not for hours, anyway."

"I just like them right now. I get these streaks where I like certain things. Here, eat this, it's your favorite."

"It was my favorite, before I had it ten meals in a row."

"Well, at least I'm not serving you something weird, like ants or caterpillars."

He sighed. "No. but that will probably be next." He sat up in bed and took the tray and started poking at the food, resisting an urge to put his hands protectively over his stomach.

"Hurry up and eat it," she said. "If you wait too long it'll get cold and I'll have to put it back into the frying pan again."

"I still don't understand why I'm getting up so early."

"We have to go to the store. Everything is on sale today, real bargain basement prices. We have to get there early, before the good stuff is gone. We already talked about this, remember? You promised you would go with me. You pledged!"

He stared at her. "I pledged? I don't remember anything about it!"

"Well, I'm sure I saw you nod. That's close enough. Now eat your food."

Looking somewhat haunted, he took a big bite of the liver and bacon. A wave of nausea went through him, but he managed to suppress it. "What is it you were trying to buy?"

"Oh, probably lots of things, but I particularly wanted to get some sports stuff. You know, caps and T-shirts with team logos, bumper stickers, stuff like that."

"I really could stay here," he said, a trace of aggravation in his voice. "I don't have to be there."

"It's more fun with somebody with me. And I need you to help carry things."

"I'm not sure I'm strong enough to carry all that."

"Oh, I'm sure you can. I expect great things of you. Now, come on, break a leg and get moving. We have to hurry."

He paused, the fork partway to his mouth. "That's 'shake a leg.' If I break a leg, will you let me stay home?"

"No, we'll just rent a wheelchair. Now stop complaining, you like sports, too. We're birds of a feather."

"Well, I liked watching them on TV, I never went to the games much. Until now." He finished the food and handed her the tray. "At least this game is early in the day."

"Yes," she said. "It's a good thing too. We have to go grocery shopping afterwards. We're almost out of liver and bacon."

The Horrendous Halibut

This is a story that I did for a message board, on a thread normally concerned with comically constructing new words and definitions. They were at that time doing exercises where a user gave a short list of words and other users then wrote a story containing those words.

This is another of my stories from my post number 1000 for that message board. The list of words for this story: halo, halibut, horrendous, hanky, helium.

This story is dated 9:23 PM, December 1, 2006, Arizona time (MST).


THE HORRENDOUS HALIBUT

A horrendous halibut wearing a halo stole my hanky while I was high on helium. I think.

Dream - Part Two of the Forever Car

Thursday morning, November 6, 2008, I had a long dream, most of which is forgotten. Toward the end of it, in the part that I remember the best, I began searching for the legendary Forever Car.

In the dream, I drove around in an area that seemed to be something similar to the Reno, Nevada area, on the outskirts, in a loop between the new and old shopping centers. Some other people were with me sometimes and were at the far ends of the loop. Something was going on, but I don't remember what.

Now I was searching, though, for information on the Forever Car. Partway through the dream I had become aware, with a sense of wonder, that this was the previously unknown part two of the story of the Forever Car, and the person who was driving it was somewhere around there and I had to find him.

I finally found, with some of the other people following along with me, in a garage at the end of a long building in disrepair, a car in a concrete opening in the floor with a small van on a platform over it. I initially wondered if the Forever Car was underneath the van, that they might be trying to hide it that way.

My attention became focused on the van, though. It was partially dismantled, and on the face of it didn't look very remarkable. I walked around it, looking it over in wonder. Could this be the Forever Car? I became aware that I didn't know what it looked like, so I couldn't tell for sure. I thought I might be close, though, and that the man might be in the area.


In real life, the Forever Car was what I called the dark blue 1987 Oldsmobile 88, a four door sedan, in a project for a class at Landmark several years ago. I told the story of the Oldsmobile here in a post on August 10, 2007 called The Journey to 479.