Waves

I was staying at a hotel on the coast with my brother, his wife and my girlfriend. The hotel's entrance to the beach opened on a long corridor of sand with tall beach grass on either side. At the end of this corridor, right where the beach starts, a tall dark wall of rock stretched as far as the eye could see into the sky. This wall went along the edge of the beach for about 100 feet before turning at a right angle on both sides and running straight out into the ocean. The only entrance or exit to this enclosure was through a very small door which the hotel corridor led to.

We all went to the beach for the day and I started to dig a hole in the sand. We were all laughing and talking and the beach enclosure was filled with other people, all enjoying the day. After a while though, the sky grew dark and the waves increased in strength. Within just a few minutes, the tide had come up and the waves were pushing us back towards the enclosure wall. People began to panic and get as close to the wall as possible, but it seemed like most of them were not aware of the door. Maybe too panicked to think clearly.

We ran back to the wall with everyone, but we had been in the middle of the enclosure, so the door was directly in front of us. The waves were incredibly high, at least 100 feet, and they were smashing down not far from where we were. People were crying and clutching each other, scrambling at the wall in a desperate attempt to climb it.

I knew that not everyone would get out of there, so I stayed at the door and started yelling over the noise at the people to the left of the door. I screamed at them to come with me, waving them towards the door and shouting that they needed to get out as quickly as possible. A few people looked at me, horror plastered on their faces and started to head towards the door. Most of them were too panicked to think.

I shouted over to my brother to do the same with the people on the right side of the door. We started ushering people towards the door together. The more people who listened and stopped panicking, the easier it was until only a few people were left, most of them clustered at the far ends of the wall. The waves had increased in strength and proximity until now they were staying put, feet from us. We were all drenched and tired. My girlfriend and my brother's wife were no where to be seen; they'd been the first couple that we'd pushed through the doors.

All at once, the tide drew away from us and the sky began to lighten.



Everything faded away and now I was at my apartment with my girlfriend. Instead of the apartments opening onto the main hallway with closed doors, now there were glass storefronts. The apartment next to ours had been renovated into an open bar, with a counter facing right out into the hallway. As I walked by, the man who lived there was polishing a mug with a towel over his shoulder. He smiled as I passed.

Our apartment door was glass, with big store windows on either side. The rest of the apartment was the same as in reality, but the first room was now a store, with counters and tables piled high with containers of cookies, candies and cakes. We'd lived there for a few months already and had already looked around at everything. We had assumed the food was all fake, just there for show until we bought enough real food to open the shop.

As I walked in the door, I saw the shop room and decided to go in a have a look, seeing as I hadn't been inside it since we'd moved in. There was a lot of color, just as you'd imagine a candy store, and a pie counter was near the door. I moved over to it and picked up a fake cookie. As I picked it up, I noticed crumbs falling from it and took a bite. It was real, and very tasty.

Excited, I ate the whole thing and then called my girlfriend to come and look. She screamed out in joy and we both scanned the pie counter, my eyes searching for a chocolate cheesecake.

Looking over at the sour candies, I almost died, saying, "This is just like winning a million dollars!"


With cookie crumbs in the corners of my mouth, a chocolate cheesecake in my hand, I said to my girlfriend, "Remember though, everything in moderation."

I wake up, extremely disappointed and hungry.

Home Run

I was in a long classroom with large windows on the right side. On the left side of the classroom were long counters, presumably for science experiments and the like. The windows faced out onto the main lobby hallway of the school. I stood looking out the window nearest the classroom door and watched as a boy, probably around 17 years old, walked through the front door with a gun. I didn't see or hear anyone else, but I knew there were people around somehow. In the classroom I was in, there were other people, but I don't remember seeing any of them.

I crouched down against the wall, peering cautiously over the sill of the window to see where he was going. He started to shoot randomly into the walls and offices around the lobby area and I knew I had to do something. I locked the door to the room I was in to protect the other people there. We waited for a few minutes, hearing the gunshots and hoping he wouldn't see any of us and I had to keep motioning everyone to stay down. After about five minutes, the people in the room with me disappeared and I realized I was dreaming.

I knew I had to do something to stop the boy from hurting anyone, so I unlocked the door to the room and picked something up. I'm still not sure if it was a baseball bat or just a piece of broken chair.

I whistled to get his attention before dropping back down out of sight. I was nervous, but I tried to focus on just being quick and getting it over with. He walked slowly over to the door, finally not shooting at everything he saw. Bringing the gun up, he opened the door and started to step inside.

Just as his foot hit the floor, I whirled in front of him and brought the bat down on his head. The gun didn't leave his hand and he only looked at me with a shocked expression on his face. I hit him again, a little harder and he crumpled to the floor, passed out. As he fell, I grabbed his pistol by the barrel and held it away from him.

I looked up to see a police officer walking towards me, surprised by what had just happened. I handed the gun to him and he directed me towards one of the offices for my statement.

When I got there, a man was looking at a computer screen at some sort of defense grid for the entire world. He said that now that the danger was passed, he would have to send a message to certain defense networks so that they could lower their alertness. I thought this was strange, seeing as the 'danger' had only been a boy with a gun. On his map, I noticed most of the grids he was looking at were in the Middle East.

I told another man there what had happened, but when I told him, I was describing it to him as though I had just dreamed it, even laughing at the absurdity of it. He never laughed though, only took everything I said down as if filing it away for future use.

I wake up.

Flash

I was riding a bicycle through the streets of a nondescript neighborhood. Only the road was clearly visible, the houses and sky were blurred together, only vaguely in recognizable shapes. The bicycle I was riding had very short handlebars with only enough room for my hands to just barely cover the left and right sides. Because of this, I had to steer by leaning my entire body to one side or the other. This made high speeds terrifying.

I couldn't seem to go slower than terrifying though. The bicycle didn't have brakes, so each time downhill I would tense up, using all my energy to keep from falling. Uphill, the bicycle would slow down but I don't remember ever having to actually use the pedals. The bicycle always moved at a minimum speed.

I came to my old house, one we have not lived in for almost ten years. I dropped the bicycle in the front yard and immediately went for one of the front windows. A window that had long ago been to my sister's room. Now I'm in the hallway, past my sister's room. I walk slowly down the hallway and notice that the house is still filled with odds and ends that we left there when we moved away, ten years ago. I pass my mother's old room and see a little piano against the wall. I walk through to investigate it, thinking I'll take it back with me if I can, but when I get to it, the keys are all missing and the inside of it is completely empty, save for random bits of trash.

I poke through other piles of stuff, not looking for anything in particular when I suddenly hear footsteps coming from upstairs. I stop to listen, not wondering how there can be an upstairs on a house that is only one level. The footsteps become louder and I can now hear them coming down the stairs, quicker this time. I know the house is unlived in, so I think that it must be a homeless man or drifter that I woke up. I turn to run back down the hallway towards the open window that I climbed through. I dive through the window and into the grass outside, rolling into a ball and coming back up at my bike. I pull the bike up in one swift movement and am down the street without looking back.

I come around a curve too fast, almost falling, and start up the largest hill in the neighborhood. I still don't have to pedal, so it's easy going, but I'm tired so I get off the bike to walk it up the hill. There's a nice looking hispanic man standing on the other side of the street, walking down the way I came. My bike disappears and I'm walking emptyhanded. He says hello to me, but I'm out of breath so can only manage to wave back. I notice that he's carrying a very nice camera with him.

"$600 picture, my treat?" He says, smiling.
I look at him quizically, not understanding.
"I take a $600 photo of you, for free?" He says again, beckoning to me with his camera.

I nod yes and walk over to him, skeptical that he'll keep his word but intent on humoring him.
"I'll see what you've got," I say.

He snaps the first picture and then produces a thick black screen from behind him. He holds this in front of the lens and takes a few more, changing position with each one.

"Give me your hand," he says.
I stop, wondering why all the niceness has left his face.
"Give me your hand!" He says more forcefully, grabbing my hand in his and holding it directly in front of the black screen.

I feel a small pinch on my hand immediately when the flash of his camera goes off and he smiles again.


I start to feel tired, like my brain has been slowed to a crawl. The man and the neighborhood around him becomes one blur.

All I see before I wake up is his still smiling face.