Quote:
Originally Posted by VeeDDzz`
I understand just about none of this.
If obscurity is your game I'll give you an A here.
I had a dream last night. My youngest son and I, along with a third person, whose face I could not see, boarded a ferry. The ferry was a fully functioning water vessel, but we boarded at the corner of 5th Ave. and Luminous St. We never once touched water, instead hovering just above the black, baking in the summer sun pavement.
I almost did not make it onto the ferry. My ID was mistaken for a man who had passed away many years ago. That man had been a world famous jockey.
The security woman, 4' 2" tall and wearing a green scarf with wild horses galloping across a desert landscape stitched meticulously in shades of brown and grey, recognized the photo of the famous man and eyed me wearily. Seeing the ID I had given to the petite and willowy, almost transparent, woman, I at once attempted to snatch it from her hand. She shrunk from my aggression, turning and walking away.
I protested, trying to tell her that the famous jockey was my great, great uncle. She disappeared into the aft section of the asphalt skimming transport.
With no one to question me about a now lack of ID, I hurried to catch up with my son. Just as I reached his side, and was within shouting distance of the captain of the craft, the most amazing sight floated above and then in front of us.
Hi above, but not hi enough to clear the marble and limestone buildings lining Luminous Ave. was a gigantic bus, four stories tall and six-hundred feet long. The monstrous flying bus was weaving side to side. I couldn't help myself, I walked to the front of the ferry and tapped the captain on the shoulder.
"You need to slow down," I said. The captain brushed my hand aside and continued forward. She nodded to a man next to her. I glanced at the man, only able to see him from behind. Startled, I, at once, realized this was the man who had come aboard with my son and I.
Before I could step forward and finally see this mans face, the bus hi above and in front of us glanced against a stately brick building on our right. Bricks fell to the pavement, a hole opening up on the side of the building as the reeling airborne vehicle tacked left and slammed into the capital building, destroying the dome atop the three-hundred year old marble monolith.
"Please slow down," I yelled at the captain, sure we would be crushed by falling debris.
It was then that my son grabbed my shoulders and said....
"Everything is fine, dad. We will make it to the island in a few minutes."
Last edited by DBurg; 11-02-2017 at 03:05 AM.