[Ed: Based on a dream I had many years ago, that was pretty significant for me. Written in about 20 mins for an Ex gf]
10/7/2010
It was a dream.
Slumped on the faux leopard fur bed. In the velvet suite. On the highspeed private business rail en route from Amsterdam back home to London. In my semi-casual-formal business suit. I loosened my tie.
I had just come back from a meeting with a client about a new contract bid. It sounded good on paper: Assosciate Representative for a large London based construction firm. I loved my job, I hated my job. I convinced the client that our firm could build better, stronger, cheaper. I was a go getter.
Sprawled on the bed. Staring at the circular skylight above me, watching the clouds fly past and remembering that we were traveling over 300 KMH. I loosened my tie, then threw it on the ground. I cried a little. I was a mess.
I clenched the soft velvet bedcover. Hoping that something horrible would happen. A terrorist would hijack the train. A black figure on the skylight, looking down at me as he cut open the window. I just watched emotionless and without worry as he repelled down the hatch, stared at me from behind beedy green goggles, pulled out his pistol. Without hesitation a single silent shot would hit me between the eyes. The rest of the passangers would have no idea. I would be dead.
The blur of white stopped. I felt the rough bump of the brakes. That was my cue until next time. I picked up my tie from the ground, pressed out my shirt, swept the velvet cover once more and left.
-Keaton



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