rshort1202

I’m at work and going to be reading a book aloud. I stand between listing and the CP counter, facing the warehouse. The book looks like a kids book, and there are people sitting in a few rows of desks. I prepare myself and also can’t find the beginning of what I’m supposed to read. I say something to them to stall and become self conscious of my voice being the only sound in the room. When I glance up, almost everyone looks disinterested in what I’m doing, which helps with the self-consciousness. I begin reading, stumbling over almost every word, apologizing and trying to continue on level-headedly. Again, nobody seems to care. There is also a shelving cart right in front of me.

I’m in what looks like Dad’s neighborhood with Melissa. We are walking Stella down towards Brown School. A person walking a small dog passes by and Stella does not react. We comment on this to each other. Now, we are going into the school. I think that it’s my childhood school. We walk through the hallways - it seems to have one main square of hallways - and I thought we’d be alone because school isn’t in, but there’s a group of kids in here. They seem to be some kind of program. We pass by a few different large rooms in search of the library. I think I’m planning on taking a book home. I don’t think we ever find it, but we end up walking past a lady or two, each holding up a few books. Others are here, walking past, grabbing a book as they do. Ben from work is here and grabs a Don DeLillo before I can. I thought the one I grabbed was also DeLillo, but I look at it and it’s a book of medium to longer length by an Indian author. I think it might be fun to read it without knowing anything about it.

I notice some pretty large stains in a couple places throughout the book I’m reading, In the First Circle. They seem to only be in the margins and along the tops of the pages. I feel dismayed that this will probably not allow the book to be sold at work.

I am at work when a guy comes up, looking for recommendations on a book about [something that didn’t seem like an English word - like Hua?] and houses. He sees me confused about the word and clarifies: sci-fi. I immediately think of House of Leaves and take him over there. He excitedly shows me the book already in his hands - House of Leaves. There are a few copies on the shelf, really slender hard covers that I’ve never seen before. I open one that is very new feeling. I don’t know much about sci-fi, so I plan on telling him what’s been popular recently. Now I’m back at the counter and see a brunette, middle aged lady come in without a mask. I go up to her and tell her she needs one in the store. She is dismissive and defensive, but does start walking out. She then comes back, first staying by the door, then coming all the way in. I go over again and the situation escalates to where I am calling the police on her for trespassing. This seems to scare her, as she hurriedly walks out. I follow her. I end up tackling her and holding her down until the police arrive. On the phone I said that I was calling from 660 E. Grove Streets, wondering why I said ‘streets’. I said there was a woman trespassing and start describing her, putting her weight at 180 pounds. They now arrive and handcuff her. I think she looks defeated. A woman officer says something about her being closer to 200 lbs and good thing she wasn’t bigger. I say yes, I just barely managed. There’s a white male officer and black female officer. They aren’t wearing masks and I wonder about it for a moment.

Mom and Makayla are going to get matching tattoos, and I am going with them. Outside, it is very overcast. There seems to be some dark purple in some of the clouds as well. This place doesn’t look like a tattoo shop; this entrance is on a patio covered by an overhang of a pitched roof. It seems more office or commercial. Inside now, the tattoo they are getting is just a jagged line. I see it on a piece of trace taped to another piece of paper and take out my pocket knife and begin to cut along the line. The trace keeps coming further than the other paper, but I’m really following the line pretty closely. Mom goes first now and grabs my hand as the female artist begins inking. It’s going on her ankle, and me and Makayla say how that is a painful spot (although I think I’m really thinking of the one behind my knee). I’m sitting right by mom, barefoot, with my legs stretched out. It’s like I am feeling the feeling of getting the tattoo too, I guess because I’m so close. I make a face and look at Makayla, a little excited at having this experience after a long time without it. When I look over, Mom is passed out, head back, eyes closed, mouth slightly agape, and I shake her to wake her up. This happens one more time. We ask the artist to call a doctor, but she says she’s not sure if they’re taking anyone due to social distancing. She does fill a glove with water and give it to us. I pour some of it into Mom’s mouth but it just comically and exaggeratedly spurts back up and out. I know that Melissa and her mom are also getting matching tattoos: a lobster with heart shaped scales.




I am in what seems to be an empty high school, on the second level. Julia from work is having me do something; it seems urgent, and I am taking it seriously. Then, she tells me it’s just been a prank, which I agree is pretty funny. I think it has something to do with a book. I end up taking the book home and reading it. It is a YA with a dark green cover and is definitely not something I’d read in real life. I think it’s about a baby or pregnancy. I’m reading it to humorously spite the prank, but it is actually kind of good. For some reason I started a little ways into the book, so now I’m going back to start from the beginning. I am outside on the lawn in the front of Mom’s, and it seems like a really nice summer evening.

(fragment) I am outside and walking along a thin dirt trail. It descends a short but steep incline, crosses what looks like a thin dry creek, and then ascends another hill. There is a lady coming down the incline opposite me. She stops and makes sure no one is coming before she crosses the dry creek. I see her do this and give her a thumbs up to let her know she’s clear. She then passes me and makes a rude, unjust comment about me doing that for her. Angry, I aggressively cuss her out. I don’t get why she would get angry over my doing that.



(fragment) I am in a store and debating buying a book. It is a slender book of current need-to-know beers written by a woman. It seems too short, but I think it could be a good addition to my collection, especially since the small, yellowish sticker on it informs me that it’s only $1. I think I start off but then go back for it

I am seated in some restaurant at a longer table with some of the family. I look at the menu and the drink menu. A pudgy waiter comes over and takes Dad’s drink order. He then looks at me, but I haven’t decided yet. I ask if they have a porter or a stout. He says yes after I say ‘porter’ and then yes again to the stout. I ask for the stout. Dad, sitting across from me, has now done something that makes me extremely irritated. We have our food now, and I pick up my plate and beer and go sit at another table. I position myself so I’m mostly facing away from the other table. I can see Uncle Scott though, and he looks frustrated (possibly at me).




I am outside with some others, walking through a rocky crevasse. You can tell that it’s been developed for climbing, and someone points this out. We now come to a spot that looks like it has not been developed. There is also a grey boulder that is maybe the size of a car, but disc shaped and levitating. There are thin branches or vines hanging from it, and I’m not sure how you’re supposed to climb it. There also seems to be some kind of energy force around the boulder. I walk under it and let myself fall backwards. The force supports me and slightly moves me. Now, it feels as if this must’ve been something I was reading, as I am closing a thin paperback. It was the end, and I know there is more, but I can’t find the sequel as I sort through books on a shelf.