Dreamers Often Lie.

Yeah. You're kinda on your own this time.
Yeah. You’re kinda on your own this time.

The man is thinking about buying a silver statue of some deity that he finds physically attractive, because that’s what he’s doing. He is in a new/small shop on a busy street in a town in another country. A country he’s visited many times before and is familiar with.

He haggles over the price and walks away from the sale over a 50 cent difference of opinion. As he’s leaving he says to no one in particular that he’ll check how much money he has at the ATM.

He walks to the ATM, which to him seems oddly close to the small shop; it almost definitely wasn’t there when he went into the shop. The man doesn’t notice these things.

He sees a girl he saw the last time he was here. He remembers her well because he wrote about her. She left her receipt in the ATM, so he took it. 951 it said. Not dollars, just the number, but the man didn’t notice this. He checked his receipt, it said 54.
The man thought “That’s less than I thought it would be.”

The man then talks to his girlfriend, who had apparently been there the whole time, yet wasn’t. The man didn’t notice that she was not there before. As they walked along the street with no destination in mind, all thoughts of the small shop and ATM completely erased, she asks “Should we go to the airport now? Or later?”

The man, who only now realises the airport is where he must go states, “We may as well go now, it’s too rainy to go to the beach.”
It seems no one noticed this before, all being dressed for hot weather, but it is indeed raining and looks like it has been for some time.

The man finds himself in a field, miles away from anywhere or anything. Its vastness is slightly unsettling. Though he can see huge trees in the far distance. The man makes his way toward the trees; it takes him little time because they weren’t that far away after all.

Beneath the trees, which look like pines, is a narrow paved road with gravel on both sides. He starts walking, in neither direction but the man doesn’t realise.

A series of motorbikes drive past at incredible speeds. The man tries to move out of the way yet the motorcyclists seem determined to drive as close to the man as possible. Even veering onto the gravel to get closer to him.

3 of the bikes stop, he can’t makes out the colours of the other 2 but the one closest to him is orange. He is close enough to talk to the man, who is as big as a giant. “Jump on” he says, the man still can’t make out the colours of the other 2 bikes even though they’re so very close.

The man begins to jump on the back of the bear man’s bike, as he does a car drives past and all 3 motorcyclists yell at the car, or the driver, the man can’t tell. They then tell him that it was a Commodore. The man isn’t into cars but he was quite sure that it wasn’t a Commodore at all. Though he couldn’t say what kind of car it actually was. Or it’s colour.

The man again attempts to jump on the back of the giant man’s motorbike, but when he does the giant man revs the engine and moves forward a few paces. The giant man then said he preferred his passengers to be in front of him and sat further back, gesticulating that the man should sit in front of the him. The man went to oblige the giant man’s odd request, which didn’t seem odd.

Once again the bear man revved the engine, only this time he drove away completely. The man didn’t notice that the other 2 motorcyclists had already gone.

The man began walking up this narrow road with gravel on its edges until he found himself halfway up a small hill.

The giant man and his orange motorcycle appeared again, seemingly having been there the entire time, halfway up this small hill. The bear man said ”I only ride with people if they wear helmets.” The giant man stood off his motorcycle and opened up an inner compartment which housed a shiny helmet, complete with visor. The man withdrew the helmet and asked the giant man where he was.

The giant man responded, and though his words were completely unintelligible the man knew precisely the place he mentioned. The man had been there many times and, though he didn’t know the town intimately, he had some trouble reconciling this narrow road with gravel on both sides with that particular town. Which left him confused.

The man finds himself is an airport. He equates the glass, chrome and escalators with air travel. Yet he notices there are no planes. Which makes absolute sense.

A woman moves toward him and begins speaking. Though she is speaking a familiar language he cannot understand what she is saying.

A car with dark tinted window moves slowly through the building that is not an airport, yet is. He knows with all his heart that there are unsavoury characters in that car. He wonders why it is moving extremely slowly, seemingly out of sync with everyone/everything else.

He watches as it hits a young woman and causes an unachievable amount of damage, both to the woman and the check in counter. The man then  calmly decides that he no longer wishes to be where he is. He makes his way towards the doors that look like airport doors, yet aren’t.

He makes his way through the doors and into a place full of white lines and boom gates. He assumes it is a car park.  The car park seems to take up all of existence. He can’t see anywhere that isn’t car park. As it should be.

He attempts to leave the car park yet the boom gate doesn’t let him pass. For reasons unknown he can not think of walking around it. He then finds himself at an alternative exit, yet the continuous stream of cars refuse to let him cross the street.

He returns to the supposed airport, which now looks like his High School. He takes no notice of this, and despite only occurring minutes before, the tumult of the slow accident is completely absent. He gives it no thought as he proceeds to a desk with the vague understanding a woman is behind it.

He and the world he is in then disappear.

Thoughts/Feelings/Feedback

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