A Quarter 'Til Extinction

    The bustling streets of New York City served as the backdrop to our unplanned detour, leading my sister and me to the doorstep of an elderly couple's house. As we entered their abode, a sense of unease settled upon my shoulders, for I knew all too well the importance of respecting one's dwelling. But my sister, oblivious to such concerns, carelessly trampled through their sanctum, stoking the flames of my frustration.

     Voicing my discontent, I admonished her for her lack of regard, demanding that she recognize the significance of our intrusion. She shrugged off my words, nonchalantly suggesting that I inquire if we could seek shelter within the confines of this unfamiliar dwelling. Exasperated, we stepped outside into the cityscape, where the twin towers loomed in the distance, casting long shadows over our uncertain future.

     News of an impending catastrophe reached our ears—an apocalyptic comet hurtling toward our fragile planet. Whispers of doom echoed through the air, as some proclaimed it to be an extinction-level event. Determined to devise a survival strategy, my family and a select few friends convened at a restaurant, hoping to find solace and a glimmer of hope amidst the encroaching darkness.

     Deep beneath the surface of our collective fears, a singular idea emerged—to seek refuge far below ground. My father, ever resourceful, recalled a hatch nestled within a nearby golf course, its depths shrouded in mystery. Yet, an unsettling revelation followed, as he revealed that he had overheard faint voices emanating from within, hinting at a clandestine presence.

     In the midst of our deliberations, a family friend, veiled in secrecy, led us to a hidden staircase—a portal to the unknown depths of the earth. Hope mingled with trepidation as we descended into the bowels of the earth, a motley crew bound by a shared desire to outlive the imminent cataclysm. Alas, our steps did not go unnoticed, for a group of wayward miscreants trailed behind, their intentions veiled in malice.

     Amidst the chaos, a figure representing workplace safety protocols chastised us, his fury ignited by our reckless disregard for OSHA guidelines. Panic gripped us, scattering our once united front. The malicious horde pursued me relentlessly, their malevolence manifesting in a vicious assault upon my person.

     As I stumbled homeward, bloodied and battered, the weight of impending doom and the twisted nature of humanity pressed upon my weary shoulders. In the face of an approaching cosmic reckoning, it seemed that even the bonds of friendship and the sanctity of safety guidelines were but fragile threads, torn asunder by the brutality of those who embraced chaos in the twilight of our existence.

I wake up

It's The End Of The World As We Know It

Dream 9/21/2017

     After being away, I return home to find a monstrous pile of books sitting in my driveway. Being an avid collector of books, I start going through the pile to see what I can find. I see a Goosebumps book. I make it my goal to find every Goosebumps here. I walk away for a moment and when I return, the pile of books is gone. Several people are standing outside, including many of my cousins. I find out that my dad boxed up all of the books to be taken away and recycled. I throw a quiet fit. My dad knows I am upset. In a gentle way, I let him know that I wanted to find all the good books in the pile before it was trashed. I walk away again. When I return, I see all the people, including my cousins, rummaging through the books, for me, to find the treasures (including Goosebumps.)

     The apocalypse has taken place. My family owns a decent sized farmhouse in the country. We plant trees on the outside of our fence but this isn't normal life trees, it's Minecraft trees. We put a plant in the ground and then Pop! within a second it is fully grown. We plant the trees in an unusual pattern. I hear a car driving by, which is unusual since most people in the world are dead. I flag the person down. It is a woman. She joins our household. Another day, I hear another vehicle. I flag them down. It is a married couple. They join our household as well. Our village is growing.

     My brother-in-law, Andy, and I take a drive to scavenge the town. I point out a golf course. "I like the way you think," Andy says to me. I'm thinking we could find some golf clubs in here to use as weapons. We pull up to the club house and notice that somebody is in there. Andy reverses the car and drives away, "we don't want any part of that," he exclaims. We drive into town. At one part in the town, there is a dirt bike track. I see people on it. They point our direction. I am nervous. We drive on.

     We make it to a grocery store. The store is full of shoppers. I find this odd as it is the apocalypse. Also, we have to pay for our items? That's bogus. I wanted to get the authentic apocalypse experience but now I can't because I have to pay for what I take? Andy has a food warmer on wheels and is using it as a cart. I find the Silk Almond milk. It is high on a shelf. I climb the shelf and it starts to tip. It completely falls over. I grab three cartons; chocolate, strawberry and zombie. That is literally what the carton of milk says, "zombie flavored." Andy is just ladling food into his warmer. It's looking like a jail house mash at this point. He asks if I am ready to go. I am not but I don't want to take up his time so I tell him that I'm ready. The cashier announces over the intercom that the news has predicted three earthquakes for today. What? I didn't think the news was still running. What kind of lame apocalypse is this? Dream ends.

I wake up

The Legend of Pineapple Express

Dream 10/9/2015

I am in the movie "The Legend of Bagger Vance."

     My grandpa is the character of Rannulph Junah. We are at the golf tournament. On one of the holes, there is a water hazard directly in front of the Tee off point. Will Smith, I mean, Bagger Vance tells my grandpa to use a sand wedge instead of a driver to get the ball over. The rest of the golfers laugh at him. The golfers drive their cars to the Tee. My grandpa is fourth to Tee off. I check on the competition and find that John Goodman is in the tournament. I say hello. I tell him that he is my favorite. I say, "Hey John, do you remember when you were in 'The Flintstones?'" He responds, "I remember 1973. Everyone wanted a piece of John Goodman but their was only enough John to go around."

     We walk back to my car. My dad rolls down the window. A load of pot smoke exits the vehicle. My dad's hair is electric and his eyes aren't much better. John says, "Oh, your grandfather is Rannulph Junah?" I tell him that he is. He seems impressed. Dream ends.

I wake up