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

My Father's Business

Dream 9/19/2017

My dad and his wife have built a business. It is unclear what the business is. I visit his work one day. I have to admit, his workplace is huge. It looks like a warehouse the size of an airport. My dad and I walk up to the top story which houses many bedrooms. In my mind, I wish I could live in one of these rooms. The floor beneath my feet is not stable. I fall through the floor boards but my dad catches me. He lowers me down to the next floor.

I am near a room where scientific experimentation is occurring. I haven't been told to stay away from that area but I feel that I should. I walk down escalators to a basement. In the basement is a large room where two teams have just finished a soccer match. I have a water bottle but then I don't. The bottle ended up on the other side of the room. I walk over there and pick it up but then I see several bottles. I walk over to a storage closet and find dozens of boxes of soda and water. This is where the company stores their beverages for parties and functions. I have the feeling that I stole something from my dad's business. I carry on.

I walk to another basement. This basement is much darker, colder and more unsettling. It's reminiscent of the basement in The Texas Chainsaw Massacre movie. Everything is disorderly and without purpose. I stand at the bottom of the stairs and drop some items from my hands. As I bend down to pick them up, my sister, Morgan, walks down the stairs. She sees that I am sad. She tries to comfort me. We talk about a man that works here named Jon. This basement is where Jon works but he is not here. We walk up the stairs. I walk through the workplace and see a man sitting in a cubicle. His name plate reads "Jon." Dream ends.

I wake up