Things to Run Away From Really Fast

★☆☆☆☆

10/17/10



I'm sitting at a table in the library, across from a stern-looking woman my age.

"So you want to start a writing group? You realize that you'll be in direct competition with our writing group."

"Hey," I say incredulously, "I just sent out an email asking who was doing NaNo this year."

There's a man sitting beside me with his arms crossed. He snorts.

"Well," says the woman, "Be aware that you won't be able to use the library this week. It's full." She points behind me.

I turn around, and see that the walls are covered, floor to ceiling, with boxes of Corona. I turn back to her.

She sighs. "The Kiwanis club is renting the library for a Christian concert."

Scare Factor: 1/10

I walk down an empty road, then go climbing.

I'm walking down the highway west of Ixburg. There's a semi-trailer parked at the side of the road. I peer inside, but it's empty. Now that I look around, there are a lot of abandoned vehicles here. The ditches seem to be flooded, as well.

I duck behind the truck as a cop car rolls slowly by, scanning the area for life. Once it's gone, I keep walking.

The road west of Ixburg, in reality, is a mostly flat, straight piece of asphalt leading directly to a bigger highway. In dreams, however, it leads into a treacherous, cliff-like system that's made mostly of mud and would be very bad to drive in during a rainstorm. The Road typically leads to the various parks around Ixburg, the place my Grandma used to live, and Wood Mountain. It's a real place, there just aren't any mountains.

Later, I'll get an image of my mom trying to follow me down The Road in her car. She'll have to call me and ask for directions, and I'll tell her it's more about intent than the road you drive down.

shift

I'm lead climbing on an indoor structure. I haven't hooked myself into the first bolt, and this is a dangerous route to climb. If I fall now, I'll hit the protruding ledge directly below be, probably break something, and go tumbling all the way to the ground.



I look back at my climbing partner, who is... Misha Collins. Hello again. Guess who's turning into a dream sign?

Two men are arguing in the change-rooms. I'm one of them. The other guy is my boyfriend, I think, and he's... um... yelling very loudly that he isn't gay? What?

The Road. Scare Factor: 2.

I survived Stonehenge Apocalypse, and all I got was this lousy macro.

I drift in and out of sleep as the wind blows my curtain open and closed. I'm watching a slideshow, or a countdown, or a list of clips in order, and why won't the curtain stay shut?

I'm standing on the deck of a hotel, looking down through the pyramid-shaped skylight. I have the feeling that someone's gonna fall through it by the end of the night. There are people milling about, drinking and generally having a good time, and I'm standing inside now.

Misha Collins shows up, once again. (There are subliminal messages on his twitter feed, I swear.) He's standing near the entrance to the pool, looking around and smiling.

"So... why are we here?" I ask.

"It was a robot head," he says seriously.



Swimming Pools. Scare Factor: 1.