Overactive imagination

I don’t need to play violent video games because they play in my head for hours at night already.

I know this dream started before Perl woke me to go out at 0300. I hoped it would end there. Instead, I fell right back into it until 0730.

I was being chased. Very scary guys with large guns. And they were killing off the people trying to hide me and my two little girls. I kept moving around the town, giving them the slip, but not without them taking out a new acquaintance here and there. The worst place to hide was this circular glass home. It was beautiful and open inside, done in dark woods and dark brown leather. The Harrison Ford-type guy who lived there was armed to the hilt. But there was no where to hide in a glass house.

We ended up at a toy factory of some sort. I thought I was safe in the crowd. But they even had people there working for them. An Asian girl in a candy-striper uniform came after me with a knife. I knew her name was Mary and I killed her and dropped her into a tractor trailer-sized open-top box sliding by on a gigantic conveyor belt. I knew I was going to make the guys following me very angry when they found her.

I was hiding with my kids in another house when the killers sent a very large, black woman and her three ADD kids to the house. I don’t know why I let them in, but the kids started running around everywhere and I realized in all the confusion, they were stealing things. I also remember the less-subconscious part of my brain thinking this whole thing was kind of racist and promoting stereotypes. I’ll try harder next time.

I finally got them all out of the house. That is when an Angelina Jolie-looking woman and her spoiled-brat, 10-year-old son arrived. The son shows me the part in the JK Rowling book that he is reading that mentions another rare book. He wants this other book. He will have this other book. He says he will call off the hounds if I just hand it over. He also is upset that my girls might have colored in it with crayons. Seems I’d bought it at a garage sale for my kids a few days earlier. I know my daughters were reading it, but we’ve been on the run for so long, they could have left it anywhere.

So now I’m looking for the book too. And trying to figure out how I can convince the goons not to kill me and my family after I hand it over. We are in my Great Grandmother’s house and I’m trying to find other precious items I could trade. But I just get the book. It is where my daughters said they left it.

I meet the Max Martini-looking goon in an outdoor market. I give him the book and he hands it over to the kid who walks away in disgust. The kid doesn’t say to kill me anyways and it turns out, the goon is pretty cute and really liked chasing me. I gave him the best run for his money he’s ever had. He wants to take me to dinner. I would like that. He’s buying a new fedora to replace the one I destroyed. He’s trying on a new leather jacket and wants to know my opinion of it. I’m really considering going to dinner with him.

Then I remember Mary. He isn’t going to forgive me for her. He’s going to be looking for revenge. I excuse myself and go back to find my daughters. We disappear into the crowd and start to run again like the white rabbit that I am.

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