So, I’ve now completed half of the theory portion of the driving course, and for the second time in a row, I find myself passing out right when I get home.
I suspect part of it may have to do with the layout of the classroom. The small room which should seat 24, is seating about 40 of us, and the air conditioning cuts out every 15 minutes – not that it circulates air particularly well anyway. (Al, this is where your mother took driver’s ed, I believe.) A female friend of mine who’s also taking driver’s ed, (by bizarre fluke), says it reminds her of university in Ghana, where there weren’t enough seats, and there was no air conditioning. Nothing like the schools in
So I had a dream earlier that’s sort of been haunting me. People were complaining about the overpopulation of the planet, and I was waiting for a friend whose flight had apparently been hijacked by terrorists. Somehow they’d taken the plane back, and managed to land it, though not everyone inside had survived. So there we stood, outside the airport because of all the crowding, our many families waiting for the heroes to emerge from their plane. And there, stepping out of the plane, he comes, and everyone is cheering.
That’s when things really start to get hot. Literally. A massive explosion appears on the horizon, rapidly approaching us. I survive by jumping into a sewer, as everyone is toasted above me. I hold my breath beneath the swage as long as I can, and finally emerge to a flaming city. There are other survivors, but they are few, and together we scavenge for food as we make our way out of the wasteland that was a city.
And in this dream, I did reconnect with one old friend, who also survived against all odds. In fact, I couldn’t figure out what she was doing there at all. Al, it was your sister.
Anyway, I mention this dream because I’m thinking of writing into a short story. It turns out it fits very nicely into my master plan for the stories, and actually explains a lot.