It Wasn’t My Fault

Dream: responding to a report of a downtown Ada fire, I discover it is at my own office. I try to enter to see if I can help, only to be stopped by TSA agents and Washington Post journalists. I see flames licking from the top of the stairs where my office is located, but then remember that I moved to the middle of the building two years ago, and was then suddenly relieved that the fire wasn’t my fault.

This was my view when I arrived at my office in my dream. Imagine flames in the ceiling.
This was my view when I arrived at my office in my dream. Imagine flames in the ceiling.

I see Dan Marsh, who challenges me to a race to his downtown loft apartment. He is much faster than I am, and is wearing an orange jumpsuit, so I am unable to keep up.

When I finally arrive, he is nowhere to be found, but my sister is at his apartment, hiding her boyfriend, “Wear,” under the covers. “That’ll show Mom and Dad,” she explains.

I return to my office, where I discover a maze of old darkrooms and equipment (about which I dreamed before), and find an oven that was left on for 40 years, which caused the fire.

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3 Comments

  1. Clearly:
    1. The whole thing is an analogy about Donald Trump;
    2. “Wear” under the covers? “Underwear.”
    3. I am escaping from the Pontotoc County Detention Unit;
    4. You spend too much time at work;
    5. Loft apartment?
    6. I’ve never even met your sister.

    1+

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