The Heat

I'm in Africa. Some family members and friends have traveled with me. I am told of a group of people who are desperate to come here.  They travel 100 miles on foot through lava canyons. I see the trail of magma and canyons that lead away. We start to move the path. A few miles on, the walls of the canyons block the sun, and Molton rock begins to appear more and more. We turn back. I wonder how these people travel through lava. How is it possible? We eventually make it through. The halfway point is a lovely building with chairs and vending machines. It's out of place. But it gives me hope.

We make it to the end. There is an indoor swimming pool full of lava. Lying across the pool are several inflatable logs. The people here play a game. One person sits at each end of the trunk. They try not to fall into the hot magma below.

We play the game.

I watch as my friend's dad sits at one side. He puts forth a valiant effort but eventually falls. He quickly pulls himself out, but it's too late. Lava covers his body, melting him alive. He reaches out for help. There is none. Later, we are all on the logs. I drop something into the fire and reach in to grab it. It isn't as hot as I thought. Many of us touch the firewater. We are not harmed.

I wake up

Swizzy

I'm in a hotel room. My family's here as well. Some of them are drunk. Our room is connected by a door to another hotel room where guests are staying. My sister, Kristen, has had too much to drink and is not making sense. She hears the strangers in the next room talking. She walks over to the connecting door and yells to them, "go tomorrow!" Her statement makes no sense. The rest of us laugh.

My sister, Morgan, has had a few drinks as well. She's buzzed. She tells me that the movie theater downstairs is playing a free movie for anyone who wants to see it. Morgan and I go downstairs to see the film. The theater is crowded, as is the case whenever something is free. The movie begins. The production company logo comes onto the screen. I notice the words JOY and PRAISE in the title. Morgan asks, "Is this a Christian movie?" Just then, a picture of Jesus appears on the screen. I turn around, and most of the people are leaving. Morgan and I go too, not because we don't love Jesus or Christianity but because our opinions of Christian movies are poor.

We walk down a sidewalk through city streets. Morgan is drunk by this point. She goes back to the hotel room, and I keep walking. I come across a store that sells electronics. I walk inside and look at the CDs and headphones. I want Bluetooth earbuds, but I check the price, and they are $4000.00.

I wake up

The Hitchhiker's Guide To Romance

I’m hitchhiking through Georgetown, Indiana, when a stranger on a motorcycle pulls over and offers me a ride. We rumble past familiar landmarks—McDonald’s, Circle K, Gas n’ Stuff—kicking up dust as the engine hums beneath us. Without warning, he slams on the brakes, jolting me forward. We skid to a stop beside a food cart manned by an unexpected figure: my high school history teacher. The scent of sizzling burgers, hot dogs, and sausages wafts through the air as he flips patties with the same authority he once wielded over lectures. Moments later, a second vendor rolls up, setting up a neighboring cart stocked with chilled drinks, their condensation glinting in the sunlight.

The motorcyclist doesn’t linger. He revs the engine and swings us back toward where we started, weaving through the streets until we reach a modest house. He drops me off without a word, and I step inside to find my tutor waiting. She’s already sprawled across her bed, a laptop propped up with a video queued—something about physics or chemistry, one of those sciences that blur together in my mind. I join her, sinking into the mattress as the lecture drones on. My attention drifts. The equations and diagrams fade into background noise, and I glance at her. Her eyes remain fixed on the screen, unwavering, absorbed.

Restless, I shift closer and let my hand brush her leg. My fingers trace a soft, tentative path along her skin. She stiffens slightly, then turns to meet my gaze. Eye contact has always been a struggle for me—a quiet battle of wills against my own instincts—but I fight to hold it now. Her stare is steady, searching. My pulse quickens as my brain screams to look away, but I don’t. She reaches for the remote, her voice cutting through the tension. “Yeah, we’re done with this.” With a click, the screen goes dark, and the room falls silent.

I wake up

Sliding Away

I'm part of an internship called The Honor Academy. Today we have traveled to a large field with a 32 story slide. The interns slide down the massive structure. I take my turn. The ride is thrilling and fast.

I'm standing out in the field with a group of friends when I notice a sliding intern flying from the ride. Their body imitates a ragdoll as it falls through the air and crashes hard into the ground. Before our eyes, bodies of interns fly through the air and land in different parts of the field. I run to the nearby woods and hide behind trees avoiding the out of control bodies.

When the falling stops, we the living run to the opposite corner of the field where there is a door. The door lets us out.

I wake up