By which I mean I was being towed on skis by a truck. I don’t know why. Maybe this is one of those things where asking why isn’t going to yield any useful answers? The snow was really slushy and difficult to ski on, yet the truck seemed to have no trouble.
There were a bunch of hot girls in the truck laughing and waving back to me. I would yell at them to drive more carefully but they could not hear me and assumed I wanted them to speed up, so they did. On the way I saw another skiier being towed behind a different car, as if that’s just how people get around in this world.
He flopped onto his face and skidded along the icy, snowy road without being able to stop because it was a steep downhill stretch. I wanted to help but couldn’t in my precarious position, lest I wind up like him.
We arrived (safe, somehow) at a dilapidated two story house, painted white but covered in a thin layer of grime and in general poor repair. We entered through the back yard, only to be scolded by the owner, an old man, because we forgot to lock the back gate.
“It’s tough, the lock is rusted. You can cut yourself on it real easy if you try to force it” he explained, “just apply constant gentle pressure to it and it will eventually budge”. I tried it out and it worked. Mostly to satisfy him, and it seemed to.
We then entered the house by crossing a rickety, splintery wooden walkway that threatened to collapse under us with every step…but thankfully never did. Once inside I noticed the news was on television.
It was a story about a mass shooting at a military base. When one of the soldiers was shot at, he ducked behind a corner. The gunman threw a grenade behind him and when it exploded, the soldier was tossed across the room like ragdoll physics in a game, even though it was photorealistic.
It ended here. Not sure what to tell you, or what to make of it. I think the part where I saw the other skiier fall and wanted to help, but didn’t because I was in a similarly delicate situation and could easily eat it like he did was an expression of my desire to help people in my life who are struggling financially and with basic stuff like food and utilities even though I am barely keeping my head above water.
The mass shooting segment on the news sort of harkens back to a nightmare I had where I lived in a world in which mass shootings happened everywhere, all the time. I think just because of media saturation? There seems to be a new mass shooting every month or so, nowadays.
Follow me for more like this! And why not read one of my stories?