rshort1202

I am inside what seems to be a high school. I notice that there aren’t as many people as perhaps there usually would be. There is a somewhat subdued sense of confusion, uncertainty, and unease. We have been waiting a long time for the teacher to show up, and I finally give up. I get up and walk out, calling Mom on my phone. When I ask where she’s at, she says she just got here. She asks if I see her and looking in the hallway through the window I do see her stepping out of the classroom’s doorway. I guess she’s here to teach, but I am already set on leaving. I tell her “I’m so fucking done with this.” She just resolutely says “okay.” I hang up and start walking home. I pass a driveway full of parked cars, some haphazardly, I think one even in the middle of the street. Now I have parked my car at what looks like Dad’s house. An old man walks past me, heading towards the front door. He is extremely hunched over, almost completely folded, and walking quickly with short strides on straight legs. I feel bad for doing so, but I reach for my phone to take a video. Before I can get to it, the man straightens up and starts walking normally. I am now talking with him. He looks like a generic older white man with short, white hair and somewhat bloated features. He also looks different from the man I initially saw. There is also something that is giving me odd vibes about him. Apparently he is one of my teachers, and he says that he’s grading some papers that I know are pretty old by now. He asks if mine is ‘[something] River’ and I say yes, that sounds right, but I also just think that’s the title of the text? I think he is trying to hint that mine is one of the better ones.




I am outside with a small group of unfamiliar others. We’re in what seems to be a huge tunnel with a flat and vast concrete roof. Looking up to it, I ponder its structural stability. I think of what would happen if it were to collapse right now - would any passerby notice, would we die or survive? I think that so long as Melissa is by my side I would be fine.

I am on a walk. I notice someone coming up behind me so I step side to let them pass. I then notice an old couple coming up quickly and wait for them too. I overhear the man tell the woman that it’s time to start their cardio. I think that’s great for them, given their age. I notice how thin his legs are and how thin she is. They pass me on a footbridge that’s probably 30 feet or so long, winding, with some snow left on it. Getting behind them, I say “mind if I try to keep up with you guys? It might be good for me” as they’re starting to jog. I don’t think they mind even though I’m not sure they say anything and I keep following even though I know it’s weird what I just did. We do end up talking about different hiking areas. The man mentions somewhere in Orange County, as if it’s close, and then a spot that actually is nearby. He points when he talks, but I focus more on the woman (maybe because she is closer?). He says ‘hello’ to get my attention and then looks irritated when I look up after it’s already too late. They are both nice and kind of blunt. We’re on a straightaway of an old dirt road among some pines. To my left there is a small field. In the field there is what looks like the trunk of a Baobab tree. It is topped with flags of different countries? that are currently swelling in the breeze. It seems abandoned or otherwise has some creepy element about it. I take a picture to send to Melissa, thinking of Midsommar. For a second I think I probably shouldn’t be this close to this couple with the virus going around. Looking at her, I think it would probably kill her if she got it. They don’t seem to be concerned though. We are now near the top of a hill and I’m not sure I’ve been this far. There is a good view of the city behind us (very similar to the actual view) and there is another hill to the left that I think I have walked down before.




I think I’m in a school or classroom. I have to go to the bathroom and I see that the ‘bathroom’ is two stalls right next to what looks like a teacher’s desk. The one further from the desk looks slightly larger than the other. The whole setup is awkward. I go different times, each time a different scenario of people at the desk and in the stalls or not. I think at one point HR Rosy is at the desk. I line the toilet seat with the thin toilet paper, conscious of everyone being able to hear what I’m doing in here.

I am flying. It seems that I’ve looked around me and noticed that I am maybe fifty feet or so up into the air. I notice the blue sky surrounding me and have to concentrate hard to keep moving upwards. There are two birds that I surpass. I notice a white fence way down below and continue using all of my willpower to stay afloat. There is music playing, seemingly just emanating from the surroundings, that I can hear crystal clear (but don’t remember) and that helps me stay afloat. I think I eventually come down.




I am on a walk and almost back to the house when I notice a house with an open garage. There is an older man sitting in a chair at the threshold with what looks like a border collie at his feet. It looks like he is having a small garage sale with most of the stuff in the garage (I think the driveway is short). I walk up and start petting the dog’s soft fur. I briefly consider the possibility of this spreading the virus, but the man doesn’t seem to care. The man seems friendly and pleased to have company. He says hi, I ask how he is, and we make small talk. Despite his amiability, I sense something slightly off. I notice a box of books and a box of what looks like VHS tapes. There’s really not much more, and nothing that catches my attention. The man asks if I have a MasterCard. I tell him “I have a Visa card,” not sure why he’s asking, unless he has a card reader. I was about to leave, but he starts telling me that he wants me to leave a card since I’ve already looked at stuff. A little baffled, I tell him it’s not that I don’t trust him but I just don’t feel comfortable doing that. Mom now shows up, like she was on a walk too. I tell the man I live right across the street, gesturing to the house directly across the street, asking if that changes anything. He contemplates and then says no. Mom and I just walk away from him; he accepts defeat without a word and sits back down. I notice his kind of creepy, flyaway white hair.




I am in some house; Mom is here too. I open the fridge and see that I have about ¾ of a glass of dark beer left. I wonder if it’s still good. I open some cabinets where the trash should be, but only find a ton of empty craft beer bombers.