rshort1202

I am in some small store with Melissa (it looks like a convenience store or something). I notice a shoplifter and become annoyed with her. I eventually go up to her and start cussing at her. A customer here sees what’s going on and actually joins me. There was also something about Melissa being underwater in a small pool of clear water. I noticed her pale skin glimmering, and I think I was picking up pebbles from the bottom and placing them on her supine body.

I am in a garage (it kind of looks like the old house’s garage). On top of a shelf on the right side of the garage is a box that I think has two bottles of red wine in it. They are a generic, cheap kind (I think the two bottles were the price of one regular, decent bottle). I reach up and take the box down. I am trying to open one of the bottles, but whatever I’m doing causes the cork to crumble. I initially try to save it, but then just give in and let it crumble. I figure I will pour it slowly or even strain it to prevent the chunks of cork. Now, either in the bottle or the box there are what look like pumpkin seeds. I think I am scraping them away? Andrea from high school art class is here now, talking to me about the wine.

I am at work (it is some store, but not mine), when I notice a short, pudgy black lady come in that I instantly get bad vibes from. She has a large and empty looking tote bag that rolls behind her and is wearing flip flops. My first thought is that she’ll be heading for the shoes to load up her bag and put on a new pair since there’s no way she’s really wearing flip flops in this colder weather. I follow her a bit, trying to impress upon her that she is obvious and is being watched, but she easily deflects everything I say to her. Now I think I have to leave her for a while because it is busy with shoplifters or there is something else to do and it is just me here. When I come back to her, I see that she is leaving the shoe section and heading towards the front doors. I can see a shoe box in her bag (definitely not the only one either) and see that she has a new pair of what looks like Vans on. I ‘customer service’ her as much as I can, stopping just short of calling her out, because I wasn’t watching her the whole time. I say something about getting the box for the shoes she is wearing, but she is still not having it. She avoids me all the way to the door, when I get in front of her and tell her to come back. She is with a younger girl now and they both take off running. They go to the left and into a WinCo. I stop at the doors and watch as they’re lost among all the people.

The owner of Beer NV is having me hand out some things - beer and food, I think - to houses, I think because they can’t come inside for service. The neighborhood I am in seems pretty nice. On the porch of the first house I go to, there is actually more stuff than I was going to hand out. On a table there are a bunch of bags of snacks - chips and things. I pick up a good handful and start walking away. I then notice a male voice trailing me; I think the owner of the house noticed what I did. I keep walking and ignoring him until eventually he confronts me. I somehow work my way out of it, and we end up in a trade. I end up with three 12oz bottles of beer. They look familiar and I realize they are German, which makes me happy.

I am walking through what looks like Dad’s neighborhood (maybe on one of the higher streets, like Virginia Foothills). I run into Kat and she ends up walking with me. It is near sunset and some of the lower and plumper clouds are getting some color. The rest are smaller and almost evenly spaced, bright white against the blue. I look directly up and notice a glowing sliver of the moon. It’s all very pretty. Kat mentions the sky too, saying she’s grateful for Emma for getting her to pay more attention to it, and that she wants to see it more often. I take some pictures of it as we walk. We end up at her house. I think the garage door is open, and I can tell by the way she’s talking that she has intentions to leave now. Before she does, I somewhat bluntly mention how I want to stop drinking. This seems to pique her interest, and she talks to me about it. I tell her I feel like quitting altogether but am not sure if I should stick with moderation. She pulls a little red champagne flute from somewhere and hands it to me, saying I could use it for moderation. I look at it and its almost grimy looking opaque sides, imagining how it might hold a small serving. I kind of like the idea and think I might take it, but then change my mind. I say that I want it to be a mindset thing and not something like this. Now, Chelsea has shown up, I think in a car. She stands behind us and when she sees me she recognizes me but thinks I’m someone else. I tell her no and think it slightly odd that she wouldn’t remember me. I am now walking back, now either on a dirt road or a road surrounded by dirt and small hills. There’s a small stream of water running down this slope, through the soil and grasses. I follow it and see where it meets another stream on an opposing slope, turning to one and running downwards. I look out to my left and notice a hill where water appears to be coming from. There’s a tiny canyon carved into the soft looking dark brown soil, and I imagine walking through it. I am walking right by where the streams meet, doing okay with stepping on the sturdier patches of soil and grasses. Most of it is still soft and it’s hard to tell what will give, so I end up getting both of my shoes wet and muddy. I end up back home, rinsing and scrubbing them. I put them out to dry even though it’s pretty overcast.




I’ve gotten an email from the new girl at work (it’s not actually the girl who is supposed to start. I think I see a profile picture on the email or something and it’s an unfamiliar heavyset white girl). She’s asking about me not being there for a shift, but I’m pretty sure I haven’t been scheduled. I think I’ve been using time off. She sounds more like a manager than a coworker and kind of annoying. After the text there are a few pictures of a hotel room - I think it must be a work thing. The hotel seems nice and also very familiar. I think I must have stayed there before. I think it looks more impressive than it actually is. A picture of the shower shows the floor of small, dark pebbles and the opposing stainless steel shower heads. Now, I am in the hotel. It looks like someone had just been here but tidied a bit before leaving, so I guess I just missed her. There’s a full looking black garbage bag in the abnormally large space adjacent to the toilet. The toilet itself actually has a garbage bag around it, somehow from the ground up. I adjust the opening of the bag so as to be able to use the toilet.




I am somewhere with the family. We’re in a plain, rectangular building that is for something like customs or passports or photos (something that we have to do together as a family). I notice quite a few other families here too, I think seated at tables. Whatever we’re doing here, the personale is being very aggressive with us. They are making us do tasks or challenges that seemed to be designed to result only in failure. A younger guy, I think in a uniform, tries to handcuff me but only gets one finger. He notices, his facial expression betraying his embarrassment, and tries again. The same happens, though he doesn’t notice this time. He tells me to now “clap above your head and find some shade.” I think he also holds me down to ensure failure. Still, I succeed in clapping above my head, slightly satisfied with defying his expectation of failure. I’m not sure about the shade part though. These things go on for a while longer. When we are done, I’m thinking about how I’m going to write to someone about how atrociously we were treated.




From a third person perspective I am seeing a high rise building (a hotel) that stands alone on a sprawling fine sand beach. The building seems somewhat modern and is mostly a tower but with some structural embellishments at the base. It is also way too near the water and, in fact, there is currently water submerging the first few floors. I think there’s something about the occupants just staying inside when it floods, though that seems counter intuitive. Someone is interviewing a lone, blond man maybe in his late 20s. He seems foreign, probably European, though he is speaking more articulately than most native speakers. I think he’s talking about the structural design and why it is flooding.