Seaside Slaughter
Shipwreck Sleep
Polaroids, Sex, Thrift stores.....
Terminal Terror

Witches of the Lake
animals
Apologetic Michelle And The Female Boarders
Garden Maze
"PerfecT"
the lost lover
My own little Dream
Hamster and water faucet overflow
star fox sky
The War Is On
Battling Girlfriends
Josh
Surreal: Jan 10-11, 1998
Love Myself Better Than You
Western Bentley & Insecurity
illegitamate baby
paul
Pregnant with Secrets
Running with the visitors
Panic in a Bus
Talent
Dylan Thomas Birthday Party
Visit to Mexico
family
DREAMS AND GHOSTS I

Author: typecast

Here I was, in an airport terminal, standing in a nice skirt with a rather charming blouse. I look all around there are pathways layered upon other pathways and I was in the middle. I have a bitchy friend at my side, and all I want to do is getting rid of her. Her hair is the color of the sand on the coast of the Pacific Ocean, as I wished mine was. She wore a blood red lipstick, and her bangs were cut short, smooth and at a slight, choppy angle.

I work at one of the shops in the terminal, and I'm there a little early, because everything's closed. I feel the need to catch a plain.



All of a sudden I'm running down my home street, and everything is damp, and the moon is out. I'm running from a child hood friend screaming, foaming out the mouth, and losing her mind. All the houses look like Vegas-esque architecture. Unoriginal, and boring. I scream out to my mother while I pass my old address. My mother throws a heavy, glass flower vase at my friend, and she screams like a dog that’s just been taken out on the back and put out of its misery. I look back as the impact hits the girl on the head, but I keep running.



I keep running until I hit the Edgebrook traffic, and I see the bright headlights of the passing cars.

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