December 17, 2006
While meeting with a history professor, I was given a hand full of pocket change. It was immediately obvious I had just received more than just average pocket change, as I noticed the penny in my hands was in fact a steel penny. The coin was tails-up in my hand, so I flipped it to check the date. Oddly, this steel penny was not a typical 1943 war penny, it was from 1950. I didn’t think any steel pennies were made in 1950. Then I noticed this penny also had some superfluous metal that wasn’t properly removed by the circular cutting die. My professor noticed this, and tried to grab the penny back from me, but I didn’t let him have it back.
I found my seat in the classroom. Sitting next to me was a girl named Lindsay.  I had never formally met Lindsay, but we had talked online before. I finally introduced myself and it was nice to meet her. Before long, it was my turn to stand before the class and deliver my final presentation. I stood up, ready to speak, when I remembered that I needed a compressed gas cylinder to perform part of the demonstration. I didn’t have any gas cylinders with me, nor could I easily get one. I spoke only for a few moments, before sitting down.
Later that night, thinking about that girl Lindsay, I went online. But instead of her, some woman I had never met started messaging me. She was thirty years old, but looked much younger. I hoped that one day I could introduce myself to her as well.
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December 12, 2006
I was at a very nicely built grocery store at the top of a hill, with white concrete and glass art deco architecture. Walking to the exit of the store, I noticed a good looking young lady dressed brightly trying to sell something to people. As I got near her, she started her sales pitch, and I moved slowly out the door as she shadowed me. I couldn’t understand her words, but she didn’t seem to mind that I was distracted. Finally outside standing at the curb, and looking out at this monumental grocery store, I confessed to the saleswoman, I was only walking slowly because my legs were asleep.
I later was at a marina on the Hudson River in the dead of winter. The river wasn’t frozen, but the air was brisk and there was snow on land. Two younger men were following me on a mission to walk around marina in the pitch black night with no flashlight. We walked down a floating service dock, but were blocked because cars were parked on the dock, perpendicular to the way we wanted to travel. The cars were covered, but appeared to be brand new cars. They seemed out of place. The whole affair was laced with a feeling of wrongness. I decided to take a detour and walk down a set of one foot narrow dock segments. As we walked down the floating dock, I couldn’t help but think about how the two men behind me had never been to this place, and they didn’t know I had ever worked there. Lost in the thought, and coming back to the situation at hand, I realized I couldn’t see anything. I immediately became disoriented and stopped. The guys behind me bumped into me when I stopped, and it caused the coupling on our dock segments to break. The docks tipped over and we were thrown into the river. The water was cold, and the current was strong.
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December 11, 2006
I was in the Nanuet Mall, but it was after hours so the mall was mostly empty. I wandered around the open atrium and looked at some of the stores. Eventually I went to leave. Ascending from the first floor to the second, there was a glass-doored foyer seperating me from an exit, with one door propped open, and that door had a sign posted on it that read: “Do not use.” Walking through the door, and through the big box department store behind the door, I eventually ended up outside.
That was when I was picked up in an older light blue OKA. I hopped in and the car was driven by the shadow driver to the mountains. Once we arrived we circled some interesting buildings and ended up on a path made of dirt. Rains had fallen recently and the dirt road was reduced to a muddy puddle. Racing around the mud roads, it became obvious that we were actually competing against other drivers and even people on foot running around this track as well. I thought for sure that the OKA would get stuck but it didn’t; at one point it was brought to a full stop in inches thick soft mud but it was able to get going again very quickly.
Things took a more macabre turn as I became aware that there had been a horrible incident at my house. We went there as fast as we could. I ran into the house, and there were lots of people crowded around a bathroom. There were children in the house, being shielded from the horrid sights that I too had yet to see. There were police officers there investigating the crime scene in the bathroom, and I asked one, who I knew, if she could tell me what was going on. She said I’d have to see for myself. Looking into the bathroom, I lost my stomach, and lost myself in the scene. The walls and floor were covered with blood, and birds feathers were scattered about as if a bird had exploded. No one said that a person was what had left the blood, but then again no one had to.
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December 10, 2006
I was heading back to Nanuet, from Troy. My car had been reasonably packed up. I had a lot of electronic stuff in the car. A few friends asked if I wanted to stop by the “Troy Music Hall” which was in Albany. It was dusk as I arrived in Albany, and I wanted to leave because I was expected at home soon. I pulled into a spiral shaped underground parking garage at the place I was going to. I was almost at street level as I parked. I walked into the street and around the block because I thought my friends were there.
Night was falling rapidly. One of my friends said, “You didn’t tell anyone what was in your car, right?” I said, no, why would I have done that? He said he just wanted to make sure because it was a bad area. That made me want to have to pee, so I stopped, found a recessed stairwell leading to a ground level apartment, and peed right on someone’s door. No one noticed though. We all started walking back towards the music hall.
As we walked back, we were picked up by another friend in a helicopter. Everyone else in the helicopter had automatic weapons, although I only noticed the CAR-15 in particular. The helicopter was also piloted by a PlayStation 2 controller. We were flying around Albany and the police were trying to follow us with little success. Somebody said they were thirsty, and the helicopter was then flown into a grocery store. As it neared the drink rack, I volunteered to get a bottle of soda. I got out of the helicopter and jumped onto the tile floor in the supermarket. I grabbed a bottle of soda, but for some reason, the helicopter had flown back outside into the parking lot, so I ran back out into the parking lot to catch the chopper. As I did, a white woman in her 50s, wearing a grey fleece, tried to stop me, and I laughed at her. She grabbed my arm, and I grabbed the helicopter’s landing bar, and at the moment we started to ascend, I pushed her back to the ground. The helicopter then took off. The police were chasing us, but because people had guns, they were shooting from the planes.
I was back at the music hall now, dropped off at the main entrance to the parking garage. I started walking in, but there were lots of people blocking the way. I didn’t have to ask what was going on because it was obvious there was a freestyle rap battle taking place. Except it was planned, and there was security and a crowd. I tried to get to my car, and a security guard asked to see my ticket. As I explained that I didn’t have a ticket, he grabbed a red sharpie marker and put a slash-mark on the back of my hand. Then he let me through.
I was trying to find my car in the garage, except the garage was confusing me. I felt like I was drugged. I ran through the sloping, square, dirty white tile and cool white fluorescent lit hallways that spiraled around the building. There was actually a second concentric ring, but it was for maintenance only, and it was dark, and I didn’t go down that way. I went down three levels and hit the very ground floor. There were people on the very ground floor, and they were standing around miscellaneous cars and debris. I said I was looking for my car but they said they hadn’t seen it. So I started going back up, figuring I had missed my car. I saw my car through a reflection in a glass door, but when I opened the door, I was inside the building. Then I couldn’t go back into the garage.
I was on the second subbasement floor, I knew that much. The architecture inside was amazing. The rooms were mostly a muted peach color with old wooden hardware everywhere. The doors had arched tops and some had angled tops, especially when they were jammed into corners. I walked through a library and some guest rooms where there were people discussing poetry and music. They asked me to stay, but I said I was running late. I walked through a series of two wooden doors and back into a stairwell that took me to the first basement level. Again I thought I saw my car through a glass door, this time even seeing the dirt on the treat of my brand new snow tires, and when I opened the door, the car was nowhere to be found. This time I didn’t let myself walk through the door and have it lock behind me.
I went up a flight of stairs and was now on the main floor. I ended up waltzing into the backstage area. This led me into practice spaces, dressing rooms, back hallways, and catwalks. I was then even more seriously disoriented than before. I ended up on the top balcony and overlooked the empty but soon-to-be-filled music hall. I left and walked through the plaster-walled and oak-trimmed 1900’s style hallways, and moments later I was in the expansive dressing room, lit with cool blue hued light, watching performers get into costume. I couldn’t figure out how to leave. I walked through a door marked EXIT and it took me into another hallway; this is where concert patrons were waiting. As I walked out trying to find the exit, feeling convinced I had finally made it, I heard a girl call my name: “Peter?”
I turned around and saw a blonde, brown eyed girl, just about my height, and as I turned around I noticed her eyes were dead set on me. I said hello, but I couldn’t remember her name. She said, “It’s been a while!” I said it certainly had, but I didn’t know at all how long it had been. She asked if I was staying for the show and I said I couldn’t because I was already running late and trying to leave. She started walking away backwards asking, “Did you manage to decide on a career?” I said yes, in Information Technology. She laughed and said good luck, still walking backwards. Then, still looking dead on at me, she said in a hushed tone, “At the xerox machine…”
She turned and walked away briskly. I followed her, and she ended up walking to a set of stairs and up to the fourth floor. When I made it up as well, I was distracted because I saw a costume rack with all kinds of police uniforms on it, and I wanted to take one. I didn’t take one because I wanted to find this girl, but then by the time I came to my senses, I couldn’t find her. I walked in circles trying to find her. After a moment, she found me and said, “Don’t worry there’s a consolation prize.” She started walking away again and went into an open elevator. She hit the button to take us to the 7th and top floor. The elevator was slow.
Looking at her again I couldn’t help but wonder where we had met or what her name was, but I didn’t ask. She got very close to me and with her face inches from mine, asked if I wanted to stay for the show.
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December 9, 2006
I was at a mountain resort. From the outside the building was five stories tall, painted white, and shaped like a circle. Inside the walls were all white but I wouldn’t have guessed that the building was shaped like a circle. My room was on the second or third floor. I was with a friend, and we were done snowboarding for the day, so we went into the hotel to have drinks. We were mingling with other guests, but I didn’t get along with them well. They were well-to-do, and I’m not. I left the party and went to walk around. I walked up the stairwell to the fifth floor. There was a window with light poring through, and I walked to the window to look out. Next to me was an elevator shaft with its doors ajar. The elevator was one floor below. I noticed however that there was a quarter inch thick ball-chain hanging down into the shaft, draped over a pulley at the top of the shaft. I tugged one end of the ball chain, and the other end pulled upwards easily. When I let go, the other end started to drop, so I must have disengaged some kind of clutch by tugging the rope (like window blinds). I couldn’t get the other end to stop dropping, so I eventually just let it go. Then a blonde lady from the fourth floor ran up and asked what I did to her laundry. I said I didn’t know what I did to make that happened, but she said I owed her. She was being friendly about it. Shortly after this I went to check out of the hotel. I ran outside with my snowboard, down a set of about five wooden stairs, over some verunda about thirty feet, and back up another set of five or six wooden stairs. There was a road covered in snow here. I set my snowboard down in the middle of the street, and ran back into the building to get the rest of my belongings.
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