A dream, I think. Driving around town in this big old piece of sh*t jalopy. It's an average Sunday afternoon. By the looks of the sky and by the warmth in the air I'd say it's midsummer. My pa$$enger and I pull over to the side of the road for reasons I haven't quite figured out at this point. Looking around I see that we're in a residential area. On the right side of the car is the sidewalk. Paralleled by an unusually high wooden fence. I notice that the boards are dog-eared and there are little spiders spinning webs between the boards. The house that is surrounded by these wooden sentinels is an old white house with green trim and a bold facade. My pa$$enger and I disembark the vehicle and my pa$$enger heads around the fence and disappears for a second. I see some other people moving around behind the fence, and I could see some heads sticking up over the rim. Coming from the right of the yard I see my pa$$enger's hair moving across the yard. For some reason I start to feel a bit fearful and I move behind this really big truck and I'm trying to hide while watching the heads wander around behind the fence. They move beyond the trucks and the the wooden screen that is quite undescribable. A gunshot resounds. It's deafening. Ripping apart the fragile cloak of silence that has been very obvious throughout the last few minutes. I see my pa$$engers hair fly away at an inhuman speed followed immediately by a thick spray of blood and brainy chunks of flesh. At this point I am extremely scared for my life. All the other heads start to run. towards where my pa$$enger entered the yard.
From around the corner these three guys materialize, and man they look pissed. One guy has a rifle and he blows a hole through the trucks' windshield that I was hiding behind. I start backing out into the street and I fall onto my a$$. I scramble to my knees just in time to see a guy with a rifle standing right in front of me. Calmly pointing his shotgun at me. He says no words, he only pulls the trigger and my head gets jolted back with extreme force. By the time my crusty blood red melon slaps the pavement, everything is black. Oddly enough I can still think. And the one thought that flits across my mind is "I'm dead." I think that I jolt out of my sleep only to realize that "Hey it was only a dream, I think"
Notes:
Make them up as you go. Some people think that if you die in a dream, you die in reality. I am here to say that I've died in my dreams, but I was never in your reality. I have done it time and time again. Live for a moment and no one can use you for an excuse. Only you.
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