maboroshi

Good morning, everybody.

I was in a place that may have been like a mix between a bedroom and a clothing store. The place was small and crowded with clothes and other items.

A group of black kids had done something to me. Possibly it had something to do with something perverted about me. They might have stolen or ruined a bunch of women's lingerie that I owned.

I had discovered this upon either waking up or coming out of some small place like a dressing room. At first I didn't say anything. But when I didn't react, the kids, both boys and girls, got really rowdy, taunting me. They may now even have threatened doing something to my mom.

So I decided to call some woman who was an authority figure over all of us and tell her what was going on. I picked up a cell phone off a couch that a bunch of the girls were laying on. As soon as I started dialing, a few slightly overweight girls gathered around me, yelling that I better not call the lady. But I had already dialed, and I wasn't going to hang up.

I got some weird message. The woman said she was out. She gave some big explanation about why she was out, which sounded like a blog-style rant about how hectic life is.

I now stood in a doorway at the woman's apartment. The woman had just taken a shower and she was walking around, getting dressed. She was really pretty, blonde, probably in her late 20s. She probably had a towel around her body and a towel around her head. She kept talking on and on about all these airheaded things that were apparently reasons that she was too busy to take my call.

I was trying to place the girl. She looked like a celebrity. Cybil Sheperd? No, her eyes were pale green and thin, her hair was too long, and she was too tan. Eventually I was amazed at how out of it this girl was. I thought, She can't help me. She's useless!