dreams

Something Else

Last night I dreamed I was back in high school, but not as a kid, I was all grown up. It was like my high school class were visiting the school or there for a presentation or something. But all the students were there too, class was in session. Anyhow we ended up staying late, almost like we got detention or something, so we had to go home on the late bus. There was supposed to be a special late bus going directly to Barnettville, but somehow me and another girl ended up on the regular late bus, the one that goes back through Lockstead, down through Pineville and Renous and then on to Barnettville. We realized our mistake too late. She was wining about back pain, how she had three vertebrae fused together and needed constant chiropractic care. The bumps on the road were not helping. I told her about my own back pain, how I ended up flat on my back for weeks one time. She asked how many vertebrae I had fused together. I shrugged and said I didn’t know, I’d never gone to the doctor about it, just rested until it got better. She was shocked. How do you know it was your back? she asked. Maybe you had a stroke. Don’t strokes run in your family? I shrugged again. Do strokes run in families? She smiled knowingly. The bus stopped at an old Irving and all the kids piled off to go inside and buy candy. She went too. It was like Clayton Tucker’s old garage only it was back Lockstead and there was a huge candy counter that I could see through the grimy windows. The bus driver got up to get off last and it was Archie Beaton. He looked back and noticed I was the only one left on the bus. Aren’t you coming? he asked. I looked in at the kids buying pixie sticks and lick em fun dips, then looked back at him and shrugged. No, I said, I just want to go home.

Mood: starting to get hungry
Drinking: water
Listening To: Matt Mays and El Torpedo – Move Your Mind
via FoxyTunes
Hair: pony-tailed for better comfort

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Categories: dreams

1 reply »

  1. Umm, you know you’re getting older when even your highschool dreams consist of people complaining about their back. πŸ™‚

    Like

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