a teahouse inside my head.

I was talking with people in my grade about driving to school (our brand new privilege). I went to sign out on the sign out sheet (which was in some type of garden, sitting in bright green dewy grass). Then I was in the hallway of the church my school rents rooms from for english and history classes, but the hallway looked like one of the classrooms. Gabe and Max R. (I don't want to put the full name, but since there are two Max R.'s, so I know in the future, NOT CURLY HAIRED YOYO MAX) and other boys were talking about some gross driver's ed movie (the kind they use to make you scared of accidents) called "Concrete" (which is funny because the real one we watch in California is called Red Asphalt). Gabe insists that it is actually called "Santa".

Tiny bit of precog (it's a little bit of a stretch) but we talked about asphalt in history class today.