Stressed much?

In a school setting or a university, not sure why, but it always seems to revolve around education, I was there trying to find him, but who, who was this man I was trying to find? Suddenly, he finds me. He calls my name and I turn around. I see him, he sees me, he’s angry, what happened? What did I do? He runs toward me, I turn around and walk toward the car. I get in, I drive toward him, he stumbles, he falls, he falls in a ditch head first. I’m in the car but I can see him fall, facing downward, fast, pulled down by gravity. The thud of the bump hits me as if I had fallen too. Is he dead? I see no blood, he doesn’t move. Is he dead? I take out my cell phone. I open it, the numbers seem all there, but they move around, my hands tremble, I can’t control them. I go to press nine. I press nine. Ok, now one, press one. I press one, but one moves and I press two instead. 923 shows up on the screen. I close the phone, I try again. I press nine, I press one. Seven comes up on the screen. Now I have 973. I can’t dial 911! I need help. Help me! He’s dying. He might already be dead. Help me!

Where is she? She’s late! I need to find her. Where is she? They are following me, those men, they follow me everywhere I go, doesn’t she know this? Where is she? Wait! I see her, there, in the crowd, she’s walking this way, no, she’s turned around. Anna! Anna! She can’t hear me. She’s walking away. I run, run towards her. I run but I don’t run as fast as I want to. I stumble, I fall. Crash! Everything is dark. Where is she?

__________________________________________________

I went to a fiction writing workshop the other day and the instructor said “Begin with a dream”, and so I did.

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