rshort1202

I am at work, in the clearance section. Two or three guys are browsing together over here; one of them approaches me, holding a pure white men's jumpsuit, saying he’s looking for a different size. I quickly scan all of the hanging white items as well as the single rack that’s on the wall by the jeans. I come back over to tell him that I didn’t find any, when we see a folded, white dress shirt on the cream white and fairly empty shelf in front of us at shoulder height. I casually offer it as a possible substitute. He unfolds it to find out that it’s actually a tuxedo vest. He says something like ‘oh nice, a vest,’ like it would actually work for him. As he is unfamiliar and possessing of a sort of expressionless face, I can’t tell if he’s being serious or if he’s fucking with me. I now unfold another, and this one is actually a dress shirt. It’s close to a jumpsuit in only the material - it’s heavier, like a broadcloth, also a cream white. This guy is actually happy with it and is going to get it. After they have left, I end up putting some items in the clearance next to the kids shoes. The shoes are on a torso-high display and looking pretty disheveled. There are way more things in this section than in real life. I start walking somewhere else, and the whole place is different and much larger than in real life. It seems more open; there’s a sort of skywalk to another part of the mall (or casino? - it feels a little like a casino). Over by it, I briefly help a Hispanic man look for something before I go to do something else. I end up over by the suits fitting room. There’s a computer desk at the wall opposing the opening at which sits Evelyn. I have the impression that someone’s been trying to call me on this radio, but I’m not entirely sure. I ask Evelyn if they have, and she says yes. Someone (the lady at work with sort of darker skin and frizzy hair who I think is a supervisor and whose name I’m not sure of) starts walking over to me, saying that I didn’t really help my customer if I didn’t completely follow through (referencing the Hispanic man). She directs our attention to the man who is standing on the skywalk, arms crossed, but not in an unpleasant way. He’s wearing a plum colored long sleeve with a vest over it, blue jeans, and cowboy boots. He seems dependent on the help, not in a co-dependent way, but more like he is turning the trust over to the employee. I tell this supervisor sorry, I was helping someone else and so my radio was down, slowly adjusting the volume up as I speak. I do feel poorly for leaving him and for not hearing the radio. I tell her I know I was helping him, but I forget what for, and ask if she knows. I genuinely am trying to remember. There’s another employee too, and they look slightly incredulous. I can’t tell if they find it funny or think I’m stupid or both. At one point, someone was ridiculing me for something, and it irritated me enough that I considered bringing it up to someone higher up. Anyway, I attempt to make it right and start walking over to the man. There is a rush of people moving in both directions, causing me to lose sight of him. I reach the top of the incline on this skywalk so I can survey it all the way to the bottom, but he is nowhere to be found. I double back and still, nothing. I’m by an elevator now; it is closing, so I get the notion to jump into it while I can. Literally jumping forward into it, the doors brush me on each side before closing on my JCP key lanyard trailing behind me. I pull it out and turn around to be greeted by two Hispanic men. They both seem genial and good-natured, and they both seem to think my jumping into this elevator was somewhat funny if not unexpected. One of them is shorter and more portly; I think he has a mustache. I dryly say either “that was close” or “just barely made it.” They begin talking to me, slipping into Spanish. It is too fluent for me to understand most of it. I think on a different floor now, I see the door closing. It is closing on a chubby white family with a daughter. I don’t know why we haven’t let them on, so I am awkwardly diverting my glance. Doors closed now, we need to choose a floor. They tell me ‘tres’ and I go to press 3 but mistakenly press something else. I can’t entirely read the numbers on the round, silver buttons. For whatever reason, I end up just pressing all of them, the off white light illuminating behind each in succession downwards. I think the elevator is going to the highest floor first. It ascends, and part of the wall must be glass, because I can see what looks like the Atlantis casino outside the elevator. [As in looking into the Atlantis (from within) from the elevator, not as in looking out at the Atlantis]. I think the men now exit and I continue up one more floor. The doors open, revealing a floor that appears to be one huge hot tub. There’s a low ceiling and dim but colored (blue?) lighting that plays on what is either bubbles or an excess of foam. There’s an unassuming swim up bar, and I think a pool up above it. A young boy climbs up and over the bar counter to get to it. I don’t think I’m in the water, but I am conscious of its proximity to my clothes and my radio. I start to think about staying here and using the hot tub, imagining sneaking onto the hotel room floor to find a towel from a room being serviced or the service cart itself. I wonder if anyone at work would notice my prolonged absence, but figure it’s a large place so maybe not.

I am inside somewhere - a house maybe or somewhere that feels sort of homey. There is a boy and a girl here, around my age and unfamiliar to me. They are each in a separate room. The rooms are pretty bland; I think each only has a wooden table. (This feels more like I am watching a movie, especially since I switch between observing each room). I watch as, in the boy’s room, a chair is slid away from the table seemingly of its own volition. It startles the guy, and he sort of gasps at the occurrence. To me it all seems kind of campy. Now in the girl’s room, we see her seated with another woman. When we glance back, this woman suddenly has an ugly, ghastly face (very similar to the Nun) that produces a twinge a fear in her and myself. I feel the adrenaline’s warmly numbing sensation move down my body. A few other paranormal and cinematically cliché occurrences ensue.

I am walking along a fairly busy sidewalk when a larger black man wearing grey sweatpants and a darker sweatshirt starts to come up to me, asking for spare change. I sort of feel like I have to oblige, but instead of giving him some, I ask if he’s hungry and tell him to come with me. I kind of get the impression that he just wanted the money instead. He seems quiet and despondent. I ask what he’s hungry for, and he mutters ‘chicken’. I start to go to a McDonald’s because I know there’s one close. When we get there, he gravitates towards a black lady about his age (late 30s?) who also appears homeless. They start talking, and I’m pretty sure I leave because he’s no longer paying attention to me.




I am parking in what looks like the Beer Nv parking lot. I back into one of the staggered spaces, noticing a truck in one of the spaces behind me taking up almost most of its space. When I get out, I see a thin layer of snow or frost and also that I’ve backed in perfectly. I can see that the car is equidistant from each side, as well as the front and back. I see a woman walking around, tapping kind of forcefully on cars. She is checking them for something as if she’s some kind of authority. There are others here; they comment on her lack of uniform or identification. The communal fervor bolsters assurance, but a sense of just what to do about it is still lacking. I am now sitting in my car, and she’s trying to talk to me through the closed window. I ask her for identification and she ignores it. I think she’s slightly irked that I leave my window up but knows she can’t do anything about it. I think she’s wearing black cargo pants and a dark/black sweatshirt. I simply press my license up to the window. There are some papers on the passenger seat, receipts and other car care records. One of them is a receipt for gas I just got; I press it up to the window facetiously.

I am outside of the preschool (I only have the thought that it is the preschool - it looks nothing like it). I’m standing with my back against a cement wall. I think it’s a ramp or something, as the building is a bit above where I am. It seems more like an elementary school. Melissa and some other girl are with me. I am smoking a joint, passing it to this other girl at times. Now, Nathaniel’s mom and sister show up. I hold the joint down at my left side, partially obscuring it, but not completely concealing it, as I don’t feel the need to. They start talking with us and Beatrice, seeming older, casually takes the joint. Before she does anything with it, Stephanie asks sharply “is that a marijuana cigarette?” with a small, incredulous, and accusing emphasis on the last two words. It is largely rhetoric anyway; she already knows it is. She bats it out of her hand and the two of them leave. When Stephanie asked, Melissa had quickly said no and backed away a few steps. I pick the joint up, bending it back into shape a bit, feeling bad about this whole situation. Apparently word has gotten to Niki, as she is quickly coming over here. She seems mad as she tries to talk to me and I just walk away from her. Sometime later I am texting Melissa, telling her I’m very sorry. She says that Stephanie is livid. I get the impression that Melissa is more upset at her being mad than at me. I now go into a building here, as if I’m going to work. It looks nothing like work and more like an IKEA, but more ornate and with larger rooms with higher ceilings. There is so much furniture and things on the walls that it looks as if it could be a hidden object game. There are a lot of people walking through here. I am taking a few of the same fuzzy, zip-up sweatshirts back. I feel a little high, and it is agreeable. It puts a smile on my face. Without the sweatshirts now, I enter a room. This room has a dark wood floor and a velvety, mossy green tapestry covering two of the walls. There’s also a black grand piano on the left wall. James is here, and I ask if he can play. He tells me “a little” and sits at the piano. He starts playing something that actually sounds pretty advanced. It oscillates between low and high notes; the lows sound far too deep for a piano, and the high notes are pretty high as well. I think that I’d like to try this piano. I also think that there are two older men sitting in two chairs in the far corner.

I am inside somewhere. There are 1-2 others here; I think they may be familiar [on second thought, they may be strangers - I can’t remember for sure, as I write this later in the day]. This is one room. It is large, cathedralesque, and has the impression of being somewhat ancient. I think there are tan stone pillars set against the walls. The far wall may be curved. It is dark enough for corners to be lost in deep shadows. There’s a body of water in here, the dark obscuring too its depth. There is a man here, closer to the far wall. He is white and I’m pretty sure bald and bare-chested. I think that he is going to really harm one of us (or Melissa?) in one way or another. It’s almost like this is some demented game and/or we can’t escape. We are/will be fighting him. There is blood dripping from one of my hands (*I noticed a cut on my knuckle last night and didn’t know how it got there). There is blood coming from elsewhere too (at this point, it almost looks more like a scene from a movie and like the blood may be on the lens?) I think this man ends up taking Melissa. There is now a screen that is playing a video of psychedelic visuals with weird and slightly disconcerting sounds. I and someone else watch this; it goes on for a while until finally we fast forward it. As it scrolls, I can see it continued until abruptly ending in end credits. Now, I am outside somewhere. This place feel familiar (possibly just in the dream). I think this is the Bay Area. There is a body of water, placid and sort of grey. It surrounds a chunk of land on which grows a large tree with pronounced roots. On the far side of the water is a small dirt bluff, out of which protrudes the end of a tube/pipe. A naked body suddenly slips out of it and into the water. It is Melissa, and she has a black blindfold on. I go grab her and carry her to land. She has come to now, and I talk to her. From what I gather, the weird psychedelic visuals were what she was seeing as she was passed out on the way from wherever to the end of the pipe.



Melissa and I are lying in a bed. There’s a little bed to our left and on it are three little kids. I think they are ours. They seem joyful and content and around three years old.

I am in some building. This building may be more of a house, though it is vast and labyrinthine. I think an Asian woman is showing me around or I keep running into her. At one point, she is introducing me to ‘the author’. He is a fairly unassuming man with brown hair and a full but medium length beard. He is in formal dress, along with the few other men with him. They appear to be golfing at an indoor course (or simulation?) in this room that was right around a corner. I’m under the impression that this ‘author’ has made enough to afford this house. He gives me a curtly respectful nod, and I move along. There are a myriad of rooms and furnishings, blending into the whole layout, often lacking clear demarcations between rooms. There is a large, plush bed in a corner. In it, under the comforter, lies a man and two or more women. I think that’s a high ratio, then I see another man’s head in the small sea of bedding and pillows. I may be in search of a bathroom, or I may just be passing a few. The second one I pass seems narrow and branching off in two directions. I think one side has sinks and the other has toilets or urinals. Either way, it is far too large than is necessary for a house.






I am going into a Sam’s Club with Melissa. We are not members, so I think we’ve snuck in somehow. We gather a few shopping bags worth of goods and proceed to the check out. Instead of paying there, you’re supposed to give your phone number. We give a fake number. We’re given a receipt which is checked by a man on the way out. We give this (Hispanic?) man a different receipt - from a different, real transaction or something. This receipt is from a different location, though, and we had folded it to obscure that, but he ends up seeing it. We’re not sure what to do, but we end up sneaking away when he becomes distracted by something. We stay close to the line of parked cars. I start to run, but Melissa tells me not to, as it’ll be more noticeable. Later, we are somewhere and I am thinking that we’re probably going to get caught. I think we’ve done this before too. I feel remorse and don’t want the repercussions of being caught.

I am with Melissa, entering some building. It feels like a very large CVS. it also feels like we’re upstairs. We walk past the aisles, looking for something. I think we passed what we’re looking for (condoms?). There is also a church inside here; there are a few openings in the walls through which I can see that the church area is down some stairs. Their session seems to be starting, as people are filling in. Now we are outside the building (*this may have been in the beginning). There’s a group of people, and they start to line up, holding hands, blocking the road. A dark grey/black car attempts to drive through them, but they seem to be able to mostly hold him back. Now a guy in a camo button up shirt squats down and lifts the back of the car, eventually flipping it over.