Chapter 11: Dream

[inspectorfield]

Last night I dreamt that all my friends (including anyone who would possibly read this journal) were killed in a massive explosion, the result of a terrorist attack. Before they passed on to heaven, however, their spirits all dropped off to visit me at work. They congregated in the office lobby and in my small office room, lounging about and

Comments

[reasondefies]

Drat, now you're starting to convince me that dying is a very enjoyable thing to do. The way you describe it, it sounds like a lovely thing to do on a nice summer afternoon.

Although for the sake of self-preservation, perhaps you ought to assume that your subconscious is not trying to do you in.

[inspectorfield]

I don't know. My subconscious is always telling me that it'd be fun to leap off tall buildings or slowly walk across busy highways. Just this morning it tried to convince me that bleach was a tasty substitute for milk on one's cereal.

[iuniper]

If it is any consolation, my subconscious does the same thing, but usually only when I am on the Big Wheel.