Back In School—DAY
I am depressed, walking around campus and cannot light my cigarettes. The filters have all been burned. Burned and caramelized, for lack of a better word. I tell myself to remember this best I can, especially the word “caramelized” so I can put it down properly in my dream journal later.
I meet up with Spike and the gang and we talk about the Friday night plans.
“It is Halloween, you know.” Spike sounds excited for mischief.
“I don’t care,” I say, “As long as we are headed to the liquor store now.”
They all agree and we get in Spike’s truck. I slump in the back and try to light a cig again. No luck. The guy next to me, Zero, accuses me of burning a hole in the seat. But I show him the hole’s been there. There is no ash.
Spike in the driver’s seat, ignores the exchange. He turns around and asks “What are you for Halloween, Frank?”
“I’m a train wreck.” I say and try another cig. The lighter blows up burning the side of my face. I put out the fire, dropping the lighter and stroking my burned skin. I jump up to find my pants are on fire with the dropped flame. It takes a lot of batting to put myself out.
“Yup,” Zero nods, “The seat is ruined now.”
I go to punch the guy, but have no power; my fist bounces off his chin. I have no rage, no reason to fight.
“It’s Okay.” Zero says, “You don’t have to fight me.”
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