nocturnal oddity
so i just woke up from one of my movie dreams. or at least i thought it was a movie dream until the end.
the whole premise was a young woman who was in some sort of halfway house for military personel. the girl is brunette, about five-feet three inches, but no one i know. she gives the impression of having the best intentions without reliable results.
it started out with a shot at her feet walking toward some sort of UFO deal. it’s in black and white, but instead of white it’s a dark forest green. as she walks up to the craft a woman comes out saying something i don’t remember. a man comes down on something that amounts to a motorized pedestrian ramp (very IKEA-esque). he’s stoic and says nothing.
the girl says she’s ready and needs only the night to pack. the woman says she’s not needed yet, but should be ready. jump-cut to girl sitting in a room with her suitcase in the center and three other girls surrounding her. she’s making conversation, but the other girls are taking it with a grain of salt. then one girl gets up to leave and mutters something along the lines of “secret mission this, secret housing that…bullshit, blah, blah.”
fading from black onto the original girl again, walking down a hallway holding the bag as other rooms are filled with activity. seems as though other girls have been called up to something because they’re all packing, but our girl isn’t a part of it. she hasn’t been called up to anything and is spouting off about some sort of secret mission to make herself feel better. she meets another group of girls in some sort of furnished room with a walk-out basement.
it switches then to first person where i’m sitting in a recliner in the corner. i get up and ask the girls if they want any, even though i don’t remember what it was i was getting for them. i walk outside and around the front of this house-ish place. i pick something up off the lawn and head back to the basement where i hand it (looks like soda cans) to two of the girls. then i head back out again.
cut to black. a shot of my feet, in socks, running along the concrete path that’s wet from rain and covered in fresh-cut glass clippings. quick pan up with a reverberating sound of spinning tires. light blue taurus (drewski’s by the look of the broken windshield) speeding along the lawn with 3 kids inside. the driver’s passing something to the passenger in the back-middle. the car skids in the wet grass and squeals as one tire catches concrete. the driver sees me, brakes, swerves, but too late.
i take a small hop and land on the hood, sliding into the windshield. it cracks and bows, but doesn’t break. jump-cut to shot from about ten feet out showing me in the fetal position on top of the hood. the driver’s-side door is open. the radio’s on even though i don’t know what’s playing. i’m wearing a faded brown robe, gym shorts, and my vans sneakers. the camera pulls back as we fade to black.
i wake up mid-gasp and try to catch my breath. then i lay awake for another ten minutes wondering why i got hit and not the delusional bitch who thought she was going on some secret operation. she wasn’t skilled enough for active duty, but they’re going to let her into some secret business. my ass. then i get up and figure i’ll share this shit with you.
oh, and my throat feels like someone face-fucked me with a sandpaper dildo while i slept. so i got that going for me. which is nice.
val Says: