January 6, 2016

On the front cover of the magazine was a photo of a friend sitting on the window from the interior of a half-submerged house on the coast. The photo shoot took place at a place called “Land’s Lorry”. “When did she get her teeth fixed?” my mother asked me while peering at the cover. I told her it must have been a little over a month ago but she insisted that the teeth in the photo must have been fake.

I found myself knelt over on the sands of that very beach. The waves indicated that a storm was on its way but I couldn’t get up as I was constantly battered by the waves. A shark was flung out of the water to my right and I shouted a word of warning.

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I was sleeping with my face towards the wall and under a set of heavy blankets. From time to time I would see red spots and blurs darting across the wall. I assumed that someone was leading a tour around the cavernous enclosure again. I never bothered to turn around and look but it seemed like whoever was leading the group was using a red laser pointer and flashlight.

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I was running through the hallways of an indoor pool/hot springs and a cat wouldn’t leave me alone. It kept trying to jump onto me until I picked it up and set it onto a stranger’s lap. When I finally settled into one of the pools a friend from elementary school asked if I could still interlock my fingers and crack them back and forth in order to make splashes in the water. I seemed to be no longer able to do so. I had meant to apologize to someone that I had been unnecessarily hostile towards because I had mistaken them for someone else but failed to say anything. I slowly waded away as they exhaled a sickeningly sweet odor from their vape.