Dream: City of the Louvers
Tues, Apr 25th:
A pair of boys in their early teens prowled the dim hallway of the apartment complex, switchblades open. One wore a baseball shirt that made him look like he'd walked off the set of something like The Sandlot. His heavy frame had the feral trim of a stray urban hound. River Tam screamed when she saw them doing something and fled through a fire door, her tightly braided hair swinging behind her. The boys pursued her eagerly. They checked a door at the end of a hallway; a massive woman in a navy dress screamed and shut them out. They turned to the door opposite and worked it open.
Inside, River had rejoined another woman, but she wasn't River anymore. One of them was Suki, dressed in a paisley kerchief and a long skirt. My viewpoint shifted to the other, so I never got a good look at her/myself.
The youths crept into the living room; now they were 12-year old girls. Suki shouted something at them, and we both grabbed knives from the block on the counter. At some signal, Suki rushed forward waving a carving knife and screaming, then backed up. The girls advanced on Suki, and I hastily threw a large knife. It slid across the younger blond's side, stopping them short. I pulled another blade from the block. The taller one checked her companion; a rib had deflected the point, but the knife had still cut an unpleasant gash. She complained angrily.
'Get out!' I shouted back. The girl pressed forward and I hurled a cleaver. It sank into her abdomen, the anger fled her face, and she slumped back.
A female visitor left the apartment, and the boy on the floor still smiled. She'd looked cute but plain in an average, face-in-the-crowd sort of way, They'd traded rings, and that seemed to make her happy. Someone explained that used to mean a couple was going steady, so she might think they were dating. Someone else realized the only ring he'd had to trade was a diamond engagement ring passed down by his grandmother.
The girl was jailed, but the ring hung on a chain just outside her cell, and she kept smiling and staring at it to ignore her punishments. Another girl arrived to talk with her, since they were so close. They were either sisters, and she'd be excited, or lovers, and she'd feel betrayed.
Dad compared TVs. I looked at an old one in the breakfast nook and an even older model beside it: a large, heavy set we had while I was growing up. Its bulky, ultrasonic remote had only three buttons.
Massive retaining walls held back the desert sands as I walked between them down the trench-street of an ancient ruin. Noticing movement ahead, I slipped past a dumpster and watched the intersection from its shadowed corner.
With a start, I realized the builders still occupied their city. Vague humanoids the color of moleskin ambled through the streets, their motives hidden behind their round louver-faces. I kept very still in that corner, afraid they would do me harm. The louvers are blind, but they can hear motion. It seemed safe until I saw the gray beings moving among them with blank face-plates and armored shoulders of purple metal. They couldn't see me either, but only because of the bent screw I held in my left hand as a talisman.
Four boys in their early teens cheerfully explained how to avoid them. They stood openly in front of me, but the crowd just flowed around them. I told them to keep quiet, but they said they wouldn't hear sound, only movement. Then a purple face swiveled towards them.
The explosion tossed my dad and his adversary (a man in his 50's) to a rough, green hillside. Bruised and stunned, he noticed a pool of gasoline between them. He hasn't smoked in about 13 years, but they both held lit cigarettes. He rushed to the pool in an awkward crawl, knowing that it would burn away from whomever ignited it. His opponent reached the pool just seconds too late. My dad tossed the cigarette to the pool's edge, and a wave of flames surged across its surface to engulf the villain.
The [moon-van] bulged with scientific equipment and pod-shaped fenders. Canary trim lined its bright green chassis, and compact sensors nestled atop its curved roof. Christopher Lloyd drove steadily down the dark road, monitoring the waves.
Lloyd climbed onto the back of an old truck, his face bloody and scratched from weeds. He tried to convince the illegally-immigrating Mexicans of something. Then the driver looked back at him through the window, and he realized he was in enemy hands; all of these "humans" were louvers in disguise. They explained the imminent dispersal of their chemical mutagen through Christian iconography, that would soon convert the rest of the populace. They implied they came from another planet.
"We even built your [moon-van]," the driver said.
Later that night, Lloyd climbed into the [moon-van]'s cab where a louver sat at the controls (on the right side). He sighed and gave up, unable to stop their plan, let alone understand it.
Then the scene repeated, Lloyd climbing in again. He threw a desperate punch into the louver's concentric face and fought for control of the vehicle.
A pair of boys in their early teens prowled the dim hallway of the apartment complex, switchblades open. One wore a baseball shirt that made him look like he'd walked off the set of something like The Sandlot. His heavy frame had the feral trim of a stray urban hound. River Tam screamed when she saw them doing something and fled through a fire door, her tightly braided hair swinging behind her. The boys pursued her eagerly. They checked a door at the end of a hallway; a massive woman in a navy dress screamed and shut them out. They turned to the door opposite and worked it open.
Inside, River had rejoined another woman, but she wasn't River anymore. One of them was Suki, dressed in a paisley kerchief and a long skirt. My viewpoint shifted to the other, so I never got a good look at her/myself.
The youths crept into the living room; now they were 12-year old girls. Suki shouted something at them, and we both grabbed knives from the block on the counter. At some signal, Suki rushed forward waving a carving knife and screaming, then backed up. The girls advanced on Suki, and I hastily threw a large knife. It slid across the younger blond's side, stopping them short. I pulled another blade from the block. The taller one checked her companion; a rib had deflected the point, but the knife had still cut an unpleasant gash. She complained angrily.
'Get out!' I shouted back. The girl pressed forward and I hurled a cleaver. It sank into her abdomen, the anger fled her face, and she slumped back.
A female visitor left the apartment, and the boy on the floor still smiled. She'd looked cute but plain in an average, face-in-the-crowd sort of way, They'd traded rings, and that seemed to make her happy. Someone explained that used to mean a couple was going steady, so she might think they were dating. Someone else realized the only ring he'd had to trade was a diamond engagement ring passed down by his grandmother.
The girl was jailed, but the ring hung on a chain just outside her cell, and she kept smiling and staring at it to ignore her punishments. Another girl arrived to talk with her, since they were so close. They were either sisters, and she'd be excited, or lovers, and she'd feel betrayed.
Dad compared TVs. I looked at an old one in the breakfast nook and an even older model beside it: a large, heavy set we had while I was growing up. Its bulky, ultrasonic remote had only three buttons.
Massive retaining walls held back the desert sands as I walked between them down the trench-street of an ancient ruin. Noticing movement ahead, I slipped past a dumpster and watched the intersection from its shadowed corner.
With a start, I realized the builders still occupied their city. Vague humanoids the color of moleskin ambled through the streets, their motives hidden behind their round louver-faces. I kept very still in that corner, afraid they would do me harm. The louvers are blind, but they can hear motion. It seemed safe until I saw the gray beings moving among them with blank face-plates and armored shoulders of purple metal. They couldn't see me either, but only because of the bent screw I held in my left hand as a talisman.
Four boys in their early teens cheerfully explained how to avoid them. They stood openly in front of me, but the crowd just flowed around them. I told them to keep quiet, but they said they wouldn't hear sound, only movement. Then a purple face swiveled towards them.
The explosion tossed my dad and his adversary (a man in his 50's) to a rough, green hillside. Bruised and stunned, he noticed a pool of gasoline between them. He hasn't smoked in about 13 years, but they both held lit cigarettes. He rushed to the pool in an awkward crawl, knowing that it would burn away from whomever ignited it. His opponent reached the pool just seconds too late. My dad tossed the cigarette to the pool's edge, and a wave of flames surged across its surface to engulf the villain.
The [moon-van] bulged with scientific equipment and pod-shaped fenders. Canary trim lined its bright green chassis, and compact sensors nestled atop its curved roof. Christopher Lloyd drove steadily down the dark road, monitoring the waves.
Lloyd climbed onto the back of an old truck, his face bloody and scratched from weeds. He tried to convince the illegally-immigrating Mexicans of something. Then the driver looked back at him through the window, and he realized he was in enemy hands; all of these "humans" were louvers in disguise. They explained the imminent dispersal of their chemical mutagen through Christian iconography, that would soon convert the rest of the populace. They implied they came from another planet.
"We even built your [moon-van]," the driver said.
Later that night, Lloyd climbed into the [moon-van]'s cab where a louver sat at the controls (on the right side). He sighed and gave up, unable to stop their plan, let alone understand it.
Then the scene repeated, Lloyd climbing in again. He threw a desperate punch into the louver's concentric face and fought for control of the vehicle.