Glieuaeiel's DJ

Tight-Rope

A large group of students slowly makes its way across campus, myself among them. I wish we were moving faster, but my heavy backpack makes it difficult for me to pass anyone. Fortunately, when we reach the courtyard outside of our destination building, a lot of the group stops to socialize--they're not actually committed enough to go all the way up to the destination room. I'm able to pull in front and lead the dozen or so of us who are left.

As we start ascending the stairs, I realize that I don't remember which floor we're going to. It's been a while since this group last met, you see. I ask the people behind me, but they don't remember, either. On a landing halfway between the fourth and fifth floors, the stairs stop, and we'll have to ascend the rest of the way on a tight-rope, with just one other rope at about chest height to hold onto. Then I remember that our floor is the first possible floor above this point. But it's not the fifth floor, because there's a message printed along the bottom of the wall up there that says something like "This is a false door." So we won't be able to go through that one. That means we have a floor and a half of tight-rope walking to do, which is a bit scary but not impossible.

I head out onto the rope, and the group follows me. Halfway to the fifth floor, the girl behind me slips, screams, and throws her arms around me from behind to catch onto the rope in front of me. Her feet are dangling in midair. I just try to hold on as solidly as possible so she can depend upon me for support. She sounds very scared, so I also try to reassure her that it's not very far to the sixth floor, and I start to walk her through getting her feet back under herself. She gets her feet back on the rope, but she needs to get her hands back behind me as well in order for us to advance. I tell her to do it one arm at a time, but it turns out that we're actually holding onto a vertical rope which I'll first need to move behind my own body. So I have to do some balancing of my own, but eventually we manage it and continue on up.

Starting at the fifth floor, there's a four-inch-wide strip of wood running along the walls that we can use to stand on, rather than standing on the tight-rope. It's much easier that way, and without further incident, we arrive in the room on the sixth floor. A couple of old women are waiting for us inside.

Orange Soda

When I open my locker at the gym, I'm surprised to find it stuffed full of soda pop and food. I remember I left that stuff in there a while ago, and since this is only about the second time I've used my gym locker this term, I guess I haven't had time to remove it yet, or even had a chance to remember that it was there. In any case, it's time to start taking this stuff home. My backpack can't fit it all at once, so this will take at least three visits: one for the orange soda, one for the root beer, and one for all the food. In addition to the orange soda, this time I also pack my dream journal. I'm a bit confused that it's there--I've been using it recently, haven't I?--until I remember that I've been carting it back and forth daily using my gym bag. It's high time I took it home permanently.

Suddenly I look around to discover that all of the lights are off. I've been here so long that by now it's after hours and all of the employees are gone. Part of me thinks that this is cool, but another part wonders if an axe murderer hasn't also sneaked in after hours to kill me on my way out the door.

I make it back to my house and announce to Mom that I've brought home a lot of orange soda. We both sit around the coffee table and I start taking it out. The first one I remove is open and half empty. "I forgot some of them were open!" I say. I really hope I haven't spilled soda all over my school things. "I guess all of them were open," I observe, as I take out the rest of the cans. There are several wet spots on my binder from spilled soda, but none larger than a dime.

Under Construction

Taking a shortcut through the math department, I see a giant pile of dirt in one of the hallways. Apparently part of the building is under construction. I follow Prof. S up and down a short staircase that goes around the dirt. Prof. S walks into a classroom. I'm curious what he's doing this late in the evening, so I peek in the windows. It looks like there are a lot of professors and older students in the room--must be some kind of advanced seminar. I decide it's time to get moving again.