I’m salvaging dream journal entries. Here’s the first one I’m sharing:
Me and Devika were shopping in the small walmart that recently closed in Sandersville. I was looking for .22 cartridges in what I know is the pen/stationary aisle in the actual walmart. A nice walmart worker had just helped me find the cartridges when a really pissed off store manager barges up, snatches the cartridges from me, and chunks them into the floor as hard as he can. I realize how dumb a move that is and haul ass out of the aisle before any of the cartridges go off. I turn around and see the store manager fall, hit by one of the cartridges he very stupidly set off. Standing between me and him is the nice guy that had been helping me, and suddenly people are running up accusing him of killing the store manager because they didn’t like one another. I freak out and start calling people to tell them the store manager is dead, and apparently I’m so upset by his death that the area around my right eye starts twitching. While I’m on the cell phone funky, brightly-lit arcade machines are materializing to the outer left side of the aisle, and the front of walmart turns into a beach, where submarines are running ashore, with people rushing out, I guess to see about the dead store manager. Later me and Devika are hanging out at some apartment, waiting for her dad to come get her. Edward James Olmos shows up instead, and Devika seems sick or embarassed because she’s resting face and arms down on the edge of the table. I go outside and talk to dad, whose hair is either full of gel or really wet, and we have what seems to be one of those brief, life-changing, father-son conversations while a brightly colored wormhole appears in front of us.