* The Sandman's Dream Journal o/***

I was part of a group of people working on restoring a building. We were doing some framing today. (In my waking life I do not do any construction)

We were on the bus line. At some point, one of the people in charge of the project locked the front door so that no bad people could get in.

I got hungry and started looking for some food. I went down stairs to the front door. Through a smoky plastic or glass door front, I could see the bus stop. I thought I better not unlock the door. Shoot! I was hungry.

I went back upstairs and went back to my crew. I started thinking that something was wrong and I should have gone out and caught that bus. If nobody was going to be at the bus stop anymore, it would stop coming around; then I would be trapped in the building.

I was still hungry. A building spirit started producing stuff for us to eat. It appeared in a refrigerator type thing (probably a refrigerator, but it wasn't that clear).

I pulled out three jars. One had something that you could eat, but it wasn't a main course type entree. It was just one piece of something floating in pickle juice...with a big thumb and two small thumbs cut off of someone.

In another jar, again in pickle juice, there was a foot. It was a skeleton foot with meet on top of it. Thick, nasty foot meet.

There was another jar with stuff just as gruesome, but I forget what it was. Now we are all getting scared. This is some kind of hell. A lady gets so scared she decides to kill herself, or escape if possible, by jumping out the window. She jumped into the "ocean" below. It was salt water, but not as big as an ocean.

I somehow got outside to check out where she jumped. Now there was just a waterway like a river where the street would have been on the bus line. The water was black. You didn't want to be in that water.

Now I have some dry food stuff in my mouth and I start spitting it out. With just stuff in the sides of my mouth and around my lips that I'm trying to spit out, the black water is the street again. There is a heavy Creole kind of woman cleaning up everywhere I spit, and she tells me to stop making a mess, but I keep trying to clean out my mouth.

The End.