May 24, 2016

It was Monday and along with cookies, various other snacks were being offered at the coffee shop. Apparently they needed to get rid of some of the food that had been in storage for a while. I picked up a sandwich on my way out. It was potentially a few months old.

It turned into nighttime as I walked onto the lawn and people were setting off fireworks. I stumbled my way across the grass to a group of three people around a table as I tried to fight through my fatigue. Someone walked up to me and said that they loved me and I responded by laughing it off.

–

“I love your handwriting” said the person who had met me in front of my dorm. “It’s very elegant, unlike mine.” This seemed to be the case, as their notes were completely illegible. “Where are you from?” they inquired to which I responded by telling them I felt uncomfortable answering the question. They then went on to ask me which of their plays I liked most and I told them that I didn’t know, as I looked at their brochure in my hand. Finally they asked “Which text should we analyze?” Once again I apologized and said “I don’t know” and they told me “it’s okay.”

I was handed a three hour exam from the government. As I took it to the table I asked myself “who actually does these things?” only to answer the question: people like me. I spotted a piece of brown tissue paper on the paper and picked it up. On one side, “I no longer love Morrison” was calligraphed in black while one the other side it read: “I say Morrison, and Morrison appears”. It was on this side that I began to jot notes of whatever had just happened. As I looked up from the table with the fallen tree, I overheard people mentioning someone by the name of Morrison and I wondered if they were referring to the same person.

I had woken up in the living room and when I looked outside the window, a blue piece of paper was hanging from a stick. I saw that it had that same name Morrison on it and my first thought was that it was the same tissue that I was jotting all of my notes on. In a panic, the scrambled through the junk that was on the floor in attempt to find my brown tissue. “Where did it go?” I asked and someone suggested the bin so I went into the kitchen. As I was still digging in the bin, I heard my brother come through the door. Everyone got up as they wanted to see his pregnant wife.