Dream 2

Last night in my dream, a friend of mine won a million dollars. I saw her in the street, crossing the interesting with one of those big-ass checks. It was rainy. I thought about it a moment, then I realized that I almost won a million dollars also. "Oh, ankle burgers!" I thought. "I better do something about that." On TV, there are always people winning "The Jackpot" or "The Lottery" or "Winnings Town USA" ...what have you, and then the people who won are always having people come to them and ask for money. I thought of this, you see. So, just as precaution, we (me, Paul, Brigid and my sister Amy), moved into the trashiest, shadiest, falling-downiest, apartment in Chicago, to hinder any thoughts anybody might have ever, about asking me for money...all because I almost won a million dollars. Walking through the halls to our new home, huge pieces of gray paint chips lay on the floor below bigger ones hanging off the walls. There was a gun shot. It was quite surprising to find a somewhat nice apartment room once out of the halls and community space. -Nice hard wood floors. Although unfurnished, remnants of past tenants lay scattered throughout the entire place. There were baby dolls stacked in a huge pile in the closet. In that room, hanging on black poles, were black, leather, baby-sized masochist vests. "Whatever," I thought. "This floor is great for sliding on," as I ran and slide a few feet on my chest. As I was still on my chest, I heard police sirens and Amy ran in the room, scared with throw-up in her mouth, claiming the police are coming for us. "They keep panning the window," she said, worried. I saw more throw-up in her mouth as I stood up and I thought it looked like old milk or something like that. It began to drip out. "Okay Amy," I said, "lets get you out of here."