(no subject)
So I was visiting Susan in her home, a four-postered canopy with an open top. She sat alone inside with only a piano, big and black with shining keys waiting to make the whole gadget sing.
The cloth walls billowed, like a whip would sound hitting a leather gong. I smiled at her, welcomed in.
My hands connected with the keys on the piano, and then again. I was playing a flawless Moonlight Sonata under a grey sky.
Heather rushed in through the back and put her hands on our shoulders. She urged us to get down, hold each other down. We were surrounded by tornadoes outside.
The music still sang from the piano, even afer I'd finished playing. It drowned out the freight train whistles of the vortex that was trying to rip us from the ground.
I saw everything as it happened. I saw dirt blow into my eyes, but felt no burn, as if life presented itself to me on a television screen.
Heather was floating away from Susan and myself. I struggled to keep her down by her ankle, but could only hold on and keep her from being blown too far away.
We found ourselves escaping into the back of a truck, headed for the safety of the desert.
The shadows of clouds passed over us, polka-dotting the landscape. We drove on until the truck was hijacked, and we found ourselves kidnapped.
He took us beneath a bridge, and showed us a movie about a robot that only needed to find love by the sunset. At the end, the poor machine was still alone, and wheeling off into the fading day, it's tiny metal arms raised to hold the sun in the air just a short while longer.
Before the credits rolled, I grabbed the captor's flag, and held it away from him. His face contorted with pure rage. Growling, snarling, he threatened to shoot me in the ovary with his laser gun, effectively to kill me. If any rescuers came for me, he wouldn't surrender, he said. He'd simply kill me on the spot.
It was moments following where an enormous cubical space craft landed nearby in the desert. The hatch folded over dramatically, and a red-suited man with an enormous laser machine-gun came down.
He approached the bridge, and commanded the captor to release us. As promised, his gun fired at my ovary.
I felt an excruciating pain as I watched the blue streamline of light connect my body to his gun, and his body to the rescuer's gun.
I survived the attack. But only because he aimed at my left ovary, which is nothing more now than a scarred and empty sack where an ovary used to be.
The red-man pulled his mask off, revealing a russian man covered in zippers. (Apparently called Russian zippers)
"Oh you Russians!" I cried out. "Never change!"
Ha. It was a hilarious dream after I woke up. But the pain from the laser blast felt so real.
It's nothing when you compare it to real pain... I'm so tired of pain.
The cloth walls billowed, like a whip would sound hitting a leather gong. I smiled at her, welcomed in.
My hands connected with the keys on the piano, and then again. I was playing a flawless Moonlight Sonata under a grey sky.
Heather rushed in through the back and put her hands on our shoulders. She urged us to get down, hold each other down. We were surrounded by tornadoes outside.
The music still sang from the piano, even afer I'd finished playing. It drowned out the freight train whistles of the vortex that was trying to rip us from the ground.
I saw everything as it happened. I saw dirt blow into my eyes, but felt no burn, as if life presented itself to me on a television screen.
Heather was floating away from Susan and myself. I struggled to keep her down by her ankle, but could only hold on and keep her from being blown too far away.
We found ourselves escaping into the back of a truck, headed for the safety of the desert.
The shadows of clouds passed over us, polka-dotting the landscape. We drove on until the truck was hijacked, and we found ourselves kidnapped.
He took us beneath a bridge, and showed us a movie about a robot that only needed to find love by the sunset. At the end, the poor machine was still alone, and wheeling off into the fading day, it's tiny metal arms raised to hold the sun in the air just a short while longer.
Before the credits rolled, I grabbed the captor's flag, and held it away from him. His face contorted with pure rage. Growling, snarling, he threatened to shoot me in the ovary with his laser gun, effectively to kill me. If any rescuers came for me, he wouldn't surrender, he said. He'd simply kill me on the spot.
It was moments following where an enormous cubical space craft landed nearby in the desert. The hatch folded over dramatically, and a red-suited man with an enormous laser machine-gun came down.
He approached the bridge, and commanded the captor to release us. As promised, his gun fired at my ovary.
I felt an excruciating pain as I watched the blue streamline of light connect my body to his gun, and his body to the rescuer's gun.
I survived the attack. But only because he aimed at my left ovary, which is nothing more now than a scarred and empty sack where an ovary used to be.
The red-man pulled his mask off, revealing a russian man covered in zippers. (Apparently called Russian zippers)
"Oh you Russians!" I cried out. "Never change!"
Ha. It was a hilarious dream after I woke up. But the pain from the laser blast felt so real.
It's nothing when you compare it to real pain... I'm so tired of pain.