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    #40: Stations / Sales

    by , 11-26-2015 at 09:55 AM (305 Views)
    Stations
    It's daytime and I'm sitting in a train. I'm on my way to my hometown. The train stops at a train station with the name of my hometown on it. Heh.. no way. This station doesn't like it at all. It's a tiny station almost in the middle of nowhere. I think an elderly couple gets off. I'm still a bit confused over the situation. It's one thing to get the wrong info from the on board announcements, but to have the wrong namesign up on a train station... Suddenly I see the area from an aerial perspective. Ow I get it now. They've added 2 new train stations in this city, to increase accessibility. Apparently they all have the same name.

    At the next station now. I clearly see a shop on the other platform. The building is very rectangular. I'm standing on a different platform. I look at the announcement board and see that the next train will go to my hometown. I start walking towards the correct platform. I will have to check out and check in again.


    Fragments
    I'm with my cousin. She takes a look at my dreads. She gets all excited and sort of states that I've fixed them. I tell her that my mom fixed them up a bit, but not entirely. Somehow I feel a bit embarrassed with the attention.

    I'm with my mom, grandma and aunt. My aunt is blind.* We were walking around the house and my aunt had no problem moving about with the same speed as a non-blind person. We're then all seated at a table and I'm playing chess against my blind aunt. Instead of black-white, the board is black - light blue. The position of the pieces changes ever so slightly during one of my turns, causing me to take a very long time to think about what move I want to do. At some point one of the pieces is a squished little tomato with some other stuff mixed into it. It's quite messy.

    *My aunt's not really blind.

    I'm walking along a trail in the hills or on a mountain. I'm hiking with a group.

    Not sure if it's the same group, but we're in a cave with a lot of people. We're playing a type of infected tag game. If you get tagged, you become one of the growing group of taggers. The purpose is to make it to the other side. I think I get tagged at some point, but somehow have a retry. It's easy to tell who is infected as they have a certain light around them. I think I dive to make it out of the cave on the other side, but I'm a bit too late. I finish in 3rd position, which I can clearly see displayed as if I'm playing a video game.

    I'm talking with my ex girlfriend on whatsapp. It's about a mountain and a volcano I've been to in Indonesia. There are pictures. Our replies are somewhat normal, but at the same time it feels like there's a sub-meaning as the situation feels a bit hostile. Did I go to these places with Christina?

    Writing Christina's name triggered the memory of a plane, though I'm not sure if I dreamt about one.

    I'm scrolling through LinkedIn. I've added one of my lecturers. I think I see her scrolling to hers and her ignoring my invitation. I reason that she probably doesn't know who I am, as I've omitted some information from my profile.


    Sales
    I'm standing inside a small shop. It's supposed to be an office for a street sales company at which I will start working. I know it will be different than the last time, because this time I have my housemate Quint with me who will also work here.* We're standing in front of a type of post-mix machine with the manager, who is our age. He offers us some cola. I'm not really into cola because it's unhealthy, but I don't want to be rude. We get it in a big cup. Quint prefers dr. pepper, but the manager is not allowed to pour the same quantity of dr. pepper as cola. A rule from his uncle, who is the owner. We watch the television which is mounted a bit above our heads. It's an event in a stadium. There's a group of perhaps 100 people in the middle of the field. It has to do with mourning for a terrorist attack. I see an old friend of mine, Tris. Wauw.. it looks like he hasn't slept for days. Then the whole thing turns into a performance, with riot police and such. At some point it turns into a form of rehearsal, as one thing is done again and again to get it right.

    *We don't live together. He used to work at the previous street sales company.

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