Authority

I was in a car, driving up a steep mountain road. There was another man in the passenger seat and I apparently knew him well. We were security agents, of a sort, but somehow unknown to local law enforcement. I was driving fast, trying desperately to get to the top of the mountain before... something could happen. There was a flat patch of ground near the top of the mountain, with a small gravel road on the other side that led a little further around to a second patch of level ground, this one actually on the peak of the mountain. It was dark, and the sky was cloudy. There were trees surrounding both patches of clear ground. I saw two cars blocking the gravel road leading to the second clearing and quickly braked, throwing the car into a skid that made it stop parallel to the car barricade.

Instantly, gunfire raked our car from behind the barricade. I dropped below the car window and yelled at my 'partner' to take cover. We had guns with us and used them to fire back at our enemy. I immediately found that my gun would not fire if I tried to shoot through my car window. My partner was shot and taken down, though he was still alive. As I turned to look at him, I also caught a bullet in my thigh. People say you can't feel pain in dreams, but I felt the bullet sting as it entered.

I again tried to fire back and still could not make my gun fire through the glass, no matter how desperately I pulled the trigger. A third car came from behind the car barricade and accelerated towards us. The driver stopped parallel to our car, broke my window and put the gun through. He shot me four times through the chest.

He walked away, satisfied that he had killed both myself and my partner and the gunfire from the other men stopped. I raised myself up, silently, painfully. Now that my window was broken, my gun worked just fine.

I shot the man who had shot me in the back, dropping him and exited my car. The other two men were surprised. Not quickly enough, they raised their weapons. I shot them both and immediately heard the sirens of police cars crawling up the mountainside. The blue lights passed through the trees, reflecting off of the cars. I fumbled for my wallet and produced my 'badge' just as the squad cars pulled up into the clearing. The police leveled their weapons at me and I was bathed in bright spot lights as I tried to explain myself.


Before I went to sleep last night, I was complaining to Ashton that my thigh hurt.
Nifty, eh?

Grey

Warning: Depressing dream ahead.


A steam train barreled down a railway track. There were five or six cars, all filled with coal. Each car had two or three holes in the floor, with coal piled high all around them. Tired men dropped heavy shovelfuls of the coal down the holes and into the furnaces below. Grey clouds obscured the sun; the sky was dark. The train passed trees that were bare of any leaves or color.

There were dogs, covered in soot, that ran back and forth over the piles of coal. Their purpose was unknown. One of the dogs ran too close to one of the men and his shovel. When the coal was dropped from one pile to another, the dog was hit by a few of the coal rocks. His leg was broken and the foreman immediately stated that the dog was to be thrown over the side because he was in the way and 'we wouldn't want him to fall into the furnace.'




I think I should see a psychologist.


Almost forgot...
I told my mom about my dream and she said that the night before, she'd woken up in the middle of the night to let the dog, Caroline, outside. She heard a train passing by on the tracks a few miles away and worried that the dog would run over there one day and get herself killed.

Humanibrarian

I've paid about 150 dollars in library fines to the City of Greenville in the past year or so. Shouldn't that qualify me for some kind of tax refund? I've donated 150 dollars to the City of Greenville's campaign against illiteracy... what have you done?

They should build a monument for me in the city center or something.
Or maybe I should just stop misplacing city property.

Lent

I decided that I complain too much, so I'm going to try to stop.

Only for forty days though; I wouldn't do anything rash like stop altogether. In a world so full of stupid people, it wouldn't be right to throw away such an opportunity. I'm not starting today though. I need more preparation than that. I do a lot of complaining.


I realize I'm not Catholic, by the way, but they stole Halloween, Christmas and Valentines from the pagans, so I figure they can Lend me Lent.

Peaked

It being two o'clock in the morning and me getting the spontaneous night-owl urges that I do, I decided to travel up Paris Mountain earlier. I hadn't used my camera for anything like what it was made for in weeks and I'd been getting a twitchy feeling all night, as if it was my duty to go out at some point before daybreak. Usually when I get that feeling, I end up either helping someone with a flat tire or being questioned by the police. Go figure.

It was cold. Very cold. By the time I reached the summit, dodging leaves pretending to be squirrels all the way, the temperature had dropped by a degree with each chug of the engine. I didn't pass a single car the entire way, but my imagination concocted a fiery car crash at each curve, complete with bodies in the roadway and a knife-wielding dead-eye madman. I'd only ever been to the top a few times, all during the day. I knew it was a nice view on a clear day, but I had no idea of just how many lights there are in a single city. As I drove, I had to keep myself from running off the mountainside, so intrigued was I with the lights of my city. A few times, the darkness was so complete around me that I could almost put myself in the cockpit of a starship flying low over Coruscant. What, no one else does that?













I found company at the top. A sedan with no lights on, parked on the overlook. I didn't have to guess what was going on inside, what with the foggy nature of the windows, but I did have to let lose a little chuckle at the desperately frantic movement of arms and legs when my headlights poured through the back window.

I argued with myself for a moment about staying, wondering what exactly the etiquette was in such a situation. If I were polite and understanding, I would have turned around, leaving the overlook to teenaged shenanigans which such a place was made for. Oh well, I'd driven a long way to get a few pictures. I could almost feel the desperate eyes of Pressured Teen Girl on the back of my head as her eyes went from myself, setting up my camera tripod, to the rapidly deflating penis of Lucky Stud. My apologies, guy.

I took a few pictures, which didn't turn out very good, and then retreated down the mountainside, allowing NPR's piano concerto to drown out the renewed squeak of the sedan's suspension system.


















Lot of writing for not much of an adventure.
Forgive me, I haven't blogged in ages.

Pride

I love answerbag.

Someone told me today, "Nobody can make sense of your cryptic one-liners."
Such a sense of accomplishment.

Deflect

I was narrating a television episode, the first in a series that seemed to be some sort of kids show. The plot had something to do with a little girl who lived in a mansion, only the mansion wasn't like any other. From the outside, the house was very small, no bigger than a townhouse. On the inside, the mansion was constantly changing with new rooms, long hallways, hidden doors, etc. The mansion was a physical puzzle of sorts and the girl could only escape if she could outwit a series of increasingly dangerous villians who shared the mansion with her. Each villain would provide some sort of clue as to how the next could be beaten.

The first villain came in the form of Alan Tudyk... don't ask me why. I can't remember how he was finally beaten by our female protagonist, but I do remember that he was able to transform any door in the mansion into an impassable barrier, trapping the girl in certain rooms of the house. The barrier took the form of a shimmering mirror which moved as if made of liquid, but stayed upright. Alan was also a jokester, and didn't seem very dangerous.

The second vilain was somewhat more sinister. He wore a great overcoat that flew along behind him as he walked. He had black leather riding boots with spurs on his feet and a dark top hat on his head. He walked quickly, head bent forward, as if walking into a strong wind. He seemed to have a definite purpose and never faltered or hesitated. As he walked through the long hallways of the mansion, peering into each room he passed, his body flashed and shimmered, appearing to vanish and reappear ten times a second. In his hands, he carried a large metal lantern. His face was hidden in shadow.

The girl was visibly terrified of this man when she first saw him. When he would see her, he would raise his lantern to her. A bolt of light would fly from the lantern and hit the girl, causing her body to shimmer and flash just as his did. Each time she was hit, her energy would be sapped, making her flight through the mansion harder and harder. After many failed attempts at killing the man, the girl desperately grabbed one of the doors that Alan had transformed into a mirror barrier earlier. She pulled until it came loose from the wall and turned towards her pursuer just as he leveled his lantern at her. The bolt of light shot into the mirror and was reflected back at the man. He threw his hands up and his entire body lit up violently, as if struck by lightning. He disappeared in a puff of smoke, top hat and all.