She rushed in all full of fear and desperation screaming something about things not being as they appear to be. “Everyone has it all wrong!”, she said, “We are nothing but numbered lozenges of purchasing power; little human batteries that keep everything going and going and going. I don’t want to be a fucking rabbit!” I glared at her and agreed with a knowing smile and then went back to what I was doing. I said, “It just so happens that I am working on a way to pull the plug on all those little batteries”, and hit the enter key.
The streets in my dream were made of worn brick and shadow. The sound of water dripping, carefully measuring time, could be heard down alleys I could never seem to find. My footsteps threatened to betray me to the enemies crouched and waiting around every corner. You could cut the tension with the knife in my pocket. I turned so many corners that finding my way back was impossible. Lost in the maze I kept looking for a way in or out. Around another corner. More rats. More garbage. More fear. More shadow. More footsteps. More longing. More searching. More sleep.