★★☆☆☆ 12/30/10 "Doctor, believe me I know. When someone locks themselves in their own mind like that, it's only a matter of time before it destroys them." Squish. Scare Factor: 2.
Updated 01-17-2011 at 03:21 AM by 31096
07/11/10 I go to Halifax. Nothing happens. I'm downtown, trying to sell a lamp from my old apartment to a thrift shop. It's not worth ten bucks, but they give me about a hundred and fifty for it. I'm staring at it, wondering if I should buy it back, when an old woman swoops in and grabs it off the shelf. I wander downtown, looking at other thrift stores for something in particular. I enter one store, and apparently it's a high school reunion (for my graduating class). I hear that a bunch of illustrators just retired from their company. I see a flash of a marina. Light bounces off the farthest point, where a woman who used to be an illustrator lives. I decide I want her old job. I talk to River, from Firefly. She tells me she was married at one point. I'm back in the prairies. The ground is soaked, and some of the fields are flooded. I'm standing on dry ground, behind a dike that's keeping the flood waters out. Back in Halifax. I'm part of a group that recreates classic photos and paintings in a modern setting. There are five of us arranged in a hallway; all of us are guys. At one point, we have to say our names for the video that's rolling. "Okay, Anton!" I take that as my cue, and repeat, "Anton" for the camera. "Cut!" says our director. "Anton, Anjon, John..." I mutter to myself, frowning. Odd. I can't remember my name. Lamps. Scare Factor: 1.
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