After a mess of dreams involving airports, bare feet, and children with speech problems, I found myself inside a grocery store. The low ceilings, wood shelves, and deep-colored boxes and products gave it an old-world feeling, although the workers and customers were all people I knew. The light was hazy and an earthy golden brown; dust seemed to constantly be settling through the air. I was searching for squash, and an old friend from middle school was helping me look. After digging through the frozen food closets, I headed to the far side of the store. There, at the large wooden produce counter, I wondered at the fact that there was nobody there. When I looked behind the counter, I saw a few small chairs knocked over, some broken glass, a dented box or two, as if somebody left (or was taken) in a hurry. Because I knew who worked the counter (a set of twins I went to high school with), I became very worried and summoned another worker. When she saw what had happened, she agreed that they must have been taken and sounded an alarm (although I couldn't see or hear anything). All of the customers seized up with fright and started hiding behind the shelves lining the short aisles. I finally found the squash I was looking for, a large, green acorn, and tucked it into my bag before heading towards the front door.
There, I saw that the two old-fashioned kissing office doors (with fogged glass and black lettering) had been barricaded. With a jolt of fear, I assumed we had been locked in so that we couldn't escape some hiding gunman. I watched as a couple people tried breaking through, but every time they failed, they shriveled away into the corners with terror. I walked up to the doors, noticed a broomstick jamming the knobs, and kicked hard through it. As the doors flew open, the store was flooded with light and we were finally able to see what was going on outside.
The doors opened onto a large and airy square with a handful of squat, dark-eaved buildings and a white, ornamentally-tiled ground. There were three or four huddles of people in different places, and the sounds of gunshots ringing everywhere. Assuming that all of the separate groups of people were milled so close together because they were seeking protection, I ran to the nearest group, about fifty feet away. I began running, my steps fast and weighted.
While running, the scene changed and I saw two men sitting at a desk together in a basement office, looking at the same computer screen. The man on the right, a meek, mousey-haired fellow, was showing the man on the left results of an investigation (the shooting that happened outside of the grocery store). While he showed the other man what he had discovered, DNA evidence, the men accused, etc., the man on the left's mouth curled into a small smile as he said quietly, "When will you learn that there are no good people in this world?" Suddenly, the man on the right turned chalk-white, even his clothing, and a hand appeared to his right, covering his mouth. As the man tried yelling for help, the muffled sound of his voice mixed in with gunshots, and I came back to the first part of the dream, running through the square.
As I ran, completely exposed, I felt a man from one group, far off to my left, start shooting at me. I started hopping and zigging my body while I ran, trying to make it harder for him to hit me. I quickly saw that a man from the group I was running towards had pulled a handgun out and was shooting at me, too.
I gave a shout and veered left, barreling through the open space with a sure strength, and made for an island of white countertop not far away. I jumped over the top of it, slid over the counter, and found myself inside a soda jerk-type bar. I hid my head between my legs and waited, breathing. Then, I saw the scene from above. I watched as one of the gunmen jumped onto the bar, looked down at me, my body huddled up, back hunched over and my cream-colored jacket stretched taunt, and saw as a hand pointed the gleaming gun towards me and squeezed the trigger.
When I woke up, I had the word "kaia-bontu" echoing through my head. While I replayed the dream in my head, all I could hear was "kaia-bontu, kaia-bontu, kaia-bontu." I don't think I've heard the phrase before, and can't imagine what it means.
There, I saw that the two old-fashioned kissing office doors (with fogged glass and black lettering) had been barricaded. With a jolt of fear, I assumed we had been locked in so that we couldn't escape some hiding gunman. I watched as a couple people tried breaking through, but every time they failed, they shriveled away into the corners with terror. I walked up to the doors, noticed a broomstick jamming the knobs, and kicked hard through it. As the doors flew open, the store was flooded with light and we were finally able to see what was going on outside.
The doors opened onto a large and airy square with a handful of squat, dark-eaved buildings and a white, ornamentally-tiled ground. There were three or four huddles of people in different places, and the sounds of gunshots ringing everywhere. Assuming that all of the separate groups of people were milled so close together because they were seeking protection, I ran to the nearest group, about fifty feet away. I began running, my steps fast and weighted.
While running, the scene changed and I saw two men sitting at a desk together in a basement office, looking at the same computer screen. The man on the right, a meek, mousey-haired fellow, was showing the man on the left results of an investigation (the shooting that happened outside of the grocery store). While he showed the other man what he had discovered, DNA evidence, the men accused, etc., the man on the left's mouth curled into a small smile as he said quietly, "When will you learn that there are no good people in this world?" Suddenly, the man on the right turned chalk-white, even his clothing, and a hand appeared to his right, covering his mouth. As the man tried yelling for help, the muffled sound of his voice mixed in with gunshots, and I came back to the first part of the dream, running through the square.
As I ran, completely exposed, I felt a man from one group, far off to my left, start shooting at me. I started hopping and zigging my body while I ran, trying to make it harder for him to hit me. I quickly saw that a man from the group I was running towards had pulled a handgun out and was shooting at me, too.
I gave a shout and veered left, barreling through the open space with a sure strength, and made for an island of white countertop not far away. I jumped over the top of it, slid over the counter, and found myself inside a soda jerk-type bar. I hid my head between my legs and waited, breathing. Then, I saw the scene from above. I watched as one of the gunmen jumped onto the bar, looked down at me, my body huddled up, back hunched over and my cream-colored jacket stretched taunt, and saw as a hand pointed the gleaming gun towards me and squeezed the trigger.
When I woke up, I had the word "kaia-bontu" echoing through my head. While I replayed the dream in my head, all I could hear was "kaia-bontu, kaia-bontu, kaia-bontu." I don't think I've heard the phrase before, and can't imagine what it means.
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