terribleshy

another dream: riding a motorcycle down Dixie Highway, I drive to the old house on Water St. and instead of the house, my grandparents old traveling trailer, with the guts all ripped out. A man drives up in an old van and somehow I know he is the new tenant. In the passengers seat, a curly haired teenage boy, between them a decomposing corpse. The man and I lock eyes as the van lumbers past. I am searching for police to tell me story to, who are suddenly everywhere, and the only one who listens is an officer on horseback. I tell him they must hide me in a police car and get me away right away but no one listens. A altercation begins between a group of vagrants and the police and my officer and I are taken captive. The man returns, this time no corpse, but the boy is half dead.
Hiding my cell phone between my palms, I call 911 over and over again and say they must save me and the officer. But I'm put on hold or explained to that they just can't make it right now.

Jeezus. Why do I keep dreaming this fucking shit?