The orange sky was only a bit lighter than the red hue in the Georgia clay. The sun was setting on the distant horizon. The wind swept through the street, picking up red dust and pushing a strand of my hair into my face.
All the people on the street were dressed in pre-Civil War clothes; women had on ornate dresses and hoop skirts, the men with pressed white shirts and top hats. It could have been a scene for Gone With the Wind.
I was walking down the street with my best friend, Emily. We didn’t speak. We continued walking past the buildings lining the street into an open stretch of red dirt.
I saw two little boys running across the plain, hopping over the few clumps of brow grass. I continued walking, even though I no longer sensed Emily by my side. I came to the edge of a very interesting land formation. It was something like the Grand Canyon, only smaller. There was a gradual descent from where I was standing, with small pillars rock sticking up. The floor lowered slowly, allowing the rocks to stick up farther and farther.
The two little boys ran along a path at the side of the land formation. Somehow I knew that the trail the boys used was the only one acceptable; going down the center of the formation was not. But I made up my mind to go down the “wrong way.” I sensed that someone was standing next to me and I looked to see who it was. It was a man from one of my classes. * He took my hand and we started to trek down the forbidden passage, even though the ‘park ranger’ warned us not to many times.
The Badland like landscape gave way to the top of a step pyramid. We stood at the very top step. Slowly, we descended down the side of the pyramid. We realized that none of the steps we were on were at a right angle, and were disappointed. As we neared the last step, we saw that it was a ninety degree angle. Taking our time, we reached it and stayed there for a long time. Then, arbitrarily, lowered ourselves to the ground. We turned around to look at the step pyramid, and focused mostly on the last step. Suddenly, two men, dressed in suits from the 1920s, came out of nowhere and folded the once three dimensional last step into smaller and smaller pieces as if it was a sheet of paper, then put it in a suitcase.
I turned back around and found myself in the small city in Georgia once again. My best friend was at my side, this time she was holding a backpack. We smiled at each other. I told her that I would take the backpack if she would like. Then she handed it to me. We walked silently down the street.
*This is a guy from an English class. I have no idea why he is in my dream.
