Monday, 4 May 2015

Journal #05.03.15

Morning. I dreamt I had stolen a taxi, and the car was solid white. The driver had left it running. He was by the curb arguing with someone. I just got in like it was mine and drove away. I began to feel the freedom in the city. The numbers were increasing, and it made me uncomfortable. I pulled over to try and stop the fare from running. I didn't have that kind of cash. A lady stepped off the curb and opened the back door unexpectedly. Two kids, a boy and a girl, plopped into the back seat and said goodbye to mom. She shut the door. Now I had two kids on my hands, and a stolen cab. Am I supposed to take you to school? I asked. They said yes. The girl scooted up and grabbed the headrest in front of her, and pulled close to take a look at me. By her eyelashes I could tell she was single digits in age. They weren't long enough to be ten. Can we go to the movies? she asked, slanting her head sideways. Can we? The boy chimed in, pulling up on my headrest. Can we, can we, can we? They cried. Oh how could I resist two beautiful irritants tugging at me like that? We pulled out into the morning commute, joining the river of traffic. When we got to the cinema, the line was a half mile long, winding up and around and around to the theatre. We stood in line and waited, and waited some more. What a dream, no better than real life? I felt somewhat cheated. By the time we got to the theater, we realized we had no tickets. They turned us away, and we began our dejected descent. Then the girl, who had told me many stories so I knew her like a daughter, began batting her juvenile lashes and tugging at my hand. There was an dark opening to our left, with blue cinema light behind it. Let's go!