Hours later, motel. Loneliness begins. No cats, dogs, pigs, ferrets, parrots, or goldfish come with the room. Nothing moves in the room. No future closest friend or sexually adventurous world traveler notices me and knocks on my door. Three packets of sugar, instant burnt bean water, bucket for ice. Musty smell, menacing remote control on a cable. Still, nothing moves. Two non-paintings hang, more lifeless than the room? The TV doesn't move, but i can feel it, the only dead thing that might come to some form of life. I should probably do something. But rest... just for a moment... and i dream
Someone who is this person
Then is that person
In this place
Which is also that place
I've never flown in a dream.
I wake surrounded by giant toes, standing on all sides of the bed. How much would toe socks cost for those? Can't find toe socks for men, probably would have to make custom tailored socks for these giant fellers. Might prefer being bare though.
I wake floating on an infinite sea, a mirror of the sea and me above. We stare at us, then avert our eyes. Where does the light come from? Maybe a horse galloping atop the sea would bump its head against its mirror self.
Just deep enough for the toes of mirror me to touch mine as we stop floating and start walking through the water. It's strange to be your own surface, soft and firm skin to walk on under the water.
I wake. My tendons hurt.
Motel phone book, large city: Gardening... Furnace.. Electric... Escort Services. Full page ads. How do they get away with this legally? What would murder for hire be listed under? Weapons contractors? What else... Identity Services, Drug Consultants, Retribution Therapists, Found Objects, Records Adjustments, Information Retrieval, Freedom Services.