102
I was in an apartment of sorts. Justin, an elderly woman (the landlord?) and a few other people (2?) were there with me. We were taking a tour, probably as prospective tennants, when we returned downstairs. The landlady was off doing something else so I sat down and started talking about what she had just said: a ghost was about and he was very upset. I fabricated my own origin story for the ghost and pretended to be very serious, sitting at this large desk and talking to the group. Suddenly I heard the strangest noises from upstairs and freaked out. I moved out of the desk, sat next to Justin, and continued to be scared shitless.
The landlady came back cackling because it was the ghost. We all freaked out but I was petrified in fear. He groaned, moaned, and banged loudly. I wanted to go upstairs to see if I could see it but everyone else refused to go up, save the old lady.
Suddenly the architecture shifted and I was in an old museum. There was a class of people my age in a school bus lining out to enter. I remember looking at the first exhibit really closely: it was a collection of different rocks and minerals from different places. There were rocks from mars that looked like a mix of dumplings and sand dollars, there were long, skinny tubes of steel that were multicolored like a fabulous snake: green, blue, white, and yellow. There were lots and lots of different rocks in a large, turnable exhibit.
I remember sitting down and trying to play the piano. I had a little girl next to me, and an older, intiminating piano teacher. He told me to play Bflat and Esharp because it was part of some song we were learning. I wrote the two notes down on notepaper to rememeber and study later, but I couldn't find the next piece of music we were working on, so I ended up getting up and standing outside in the hall. The class from the Museum was there too, but they were VERY loud. I checked my voicemail and realized Zack Caulaway from ... Middleschool? had found my number and tried to call. His voicemail was barely understandable and it fizzled in and out of reception. Curse that static! The loudness didn't help either. I had two new messages but only listened to his because the piano instructor came out. I was chill but the other people shut up.
For some reason I was marched down the hallway with the rest of them. We were marched in complete, unreasonable silence. I thought about the voicemail on my way to wherever: I thought I had a call from an 858 number (which is San Diego) but the voicemail said he was from New Jersey... Strange. I sat down in a large auditorium somewhere near the front. The auditorium's stage was in the middle today: I sat in the front row with an the aisle on my right. I saw Lesle (from Middleschool/HS) singing a song with snowbells in her hand. After she finished she gave them to me and I was really confused. There were a bunch of bells on a red, curved, buckleless collar. I turned behind me and Kelse (from HS) is upset with me because SHE was supposed to receive them. I reply that "I just got here! I don't know what anyone's supposed to be doing!" and the supervisors agree with me so Kelse lays off. I don't think I move, but somehow I look to the right and I see Matt, in his cammies (with sleeves down).
He says something about how lame this is and I agree before I know it. I am torn: do I talk to him or ignore him? How is it he's sitting besides me, anyway? I'm conflicted. He notices an airmen two seats to his right and says rather loudly "Look at that airman piece of shit. His uniform is so bleached it's white!" which is true, the airman's uniform has certainly seen better days. The airman retorts "You're a piece of shit," but it's ignored. Instead Matt says to his platoon leader "[Mr. Platoon Leader!] Permission to stay corrupt?" "Granted, Boisvert!" "Excellent. We're almost structured! It's a sign the war's almost over, right?" He's jolly, he's full of grins. He leans over and I scratch his back through his uniform. He looks good.
And I wake up with "Come With Me..." the song in Tommy's Dream from 3rd Rock from the Sun stuck in my head and a pit in my stomach.
The landlady came back cackling because it was the ghost. We all freaked out but I was petrified in fear. He groaned, moaned, and banged loudly. I wanted to go upstairs to see if I could see it but everyone else refused to go up, save the old lady.
Suddenly the architecture shifted and I was in an old museum. There was a class of people my age in a school bus lining out to enter. I remember looking at the first exhibit really closely: it was a collection of different rocks and minerals from different places. There were rocks from mars that looked like a mix of dumplings and sand dollars, there were long, skinny tubes of steel that were multicolored like a fabulous snake: green, blue, white, and yellow. There were lots and lots of different rocks in a large, turnable exhibit.
I remember sitting down and trying to play the piano. I had a little girl next to me, and an older, intiminating piano teacher. He told me to play Bflat and Esharp because it was part of some song we were learning. I wrote the two notes down on notepaper to rememeber and study later, but I couldn't find the next piece of music we were working on, so I ended up getting up and standing outside in the hall. The class from the Museum was there too, but they were VERY loud. I checked my voicemail and realized Zack Caulaway from ... Middleschool? had found my number and tried to call. His voicemail was barely understandable and it fizzled in and out of reception. Curse that static! The loudness didn't help either. I had two new messages but only listened to his because the piano instructor came out. I was chill but the other people shut up.
For some reason I was marched down the hallway with the rest of them. We were marched in complete, unreasonable silence. I thought about the voicemail on my way to wherever: I thought I had a call from an 858 number (which is San Diego) but the voicemail said he was from New Jersey... Strange. I sat down in a large auditorium somewhere near the front. The auditorium's stage was in the middle today: I sat in the front row with an the aisle on my right. I saw Lesle (from Middleschool/HS) singing a song with snowbells in her hand. After she finished she gave them to me and I was really confused. There were a bunch of bells on a red, curved, buckleless collar. I turned behind me and Kelse (from HS) is upset with me because SHE was supposed to receive them. I reply that "I just got here! I don't know what anyone's supposed to be doing!" and the supervisors agree with me so Kelse lays off. I don't think I move, but somehow I look to the right and I see Matt, in his cammies (with sleeves down).
He says something about how lame this is and I agree before I know it. I am torn: do I talk to him or ignore him? How is it he's sitting besides me, anyway? I'm conflicted. He notices an airmen two seats to his right and says rather loudly "Look at that airman piece of shit. His uniform is so bleached it's white!" which is true, the airman's uniform has certainly seen better days. The airman retorts "You're a piece of shit," but it's ignored. Instead Matt says to his platoon leader "[Mr. Platoon Leader!] Permission to stay corrupt?" "Granted, Boisvert!" "Excellent. We're almost structured! It's a sign the war's almost over, right?" He's jolly, he's full of grins. He leans over and I scratch his back through his uniform. He looks good.
And I wake up with "Come With Me..." the song in Tommy's Dream from 3rd Rock from the Sun stuck in my head and a pit in my stomach.