Monday, December 03, 2007

Playing in the Park

At a desk inside a large extravaganza remindful of Bellagio's, they are handing out complimentary envelopes to all guests. I am designated for some reason as a courier. I am to deliver plenty of other envelopes to others.

Inside each envelope is ten thousand in cash, compliments of the house.

I say to Niki J as we proceed along one of many elaborate hallways, "Do you know how much money I have in my pocket?" Yet absconding with the funds never really occurs to me. Besides, even if I did, an alarm would most likely sound once I hit the exit.

Where is Scoobie? I am forever losing contact with my pal in my dreams. We leave him in a city? How can this be? Yet there he is, across a busy city multi-lane roadway, playing with other pups in a park. It's like I have a stroke and when I recover I'm without my boy.

I run to him. I am sprinting, and somehow not at all tired. I must ascend a hill into the park, and I do, at full blast.

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