Tuesday, April 7, 2009

Last supper.

In my nap time today.

I was in the cafeteria of this large building. I had this giant balloon in the shape of a brontosaurus. I was floating and flying along the long string attached to it. Up and down and up and down.
I saw Chris J. sitting there at a table, which was strange because we were never close. He didn't say anything at first. I was telling him that it's too bad he can't fly like me. And tried to give him my balloon but he explained to me that dead people can't except gifts.
All of a sudden I was in my childhood home. There were old faces from when I was part of the mormon church. And some friends were there as well.
Another outbreak of some kind. Zombie-like people. Survivors taking refuge in my house. At night, going to the mormon church for supplies. Looking out the kitchen window I watched people get massacred slowly. They just kept going though, like they were on autopilot. Through the trellis and gateway, only to die. Calm as a lobotomized vegetable on heroin.
My parent's dog was there. On occasion she is in my dreams. She died two years ago and I never was very fond of her. That poor beast, she should have had a better home while alive.
I was talking with Michael E. from high school and church about how he owned her for a little bit in my dream. Even though he never did. After a quick conversation he stood up quietly, walked to the back room and came out with a glazed look in eye.
He was infected. We sent him out and a bunch of other people to, to be safe. We sent them to their deaths. We watched as they were slaughtered just outside the garden fence.
We tried to watch the news to see if anything was going on.
My friends from the near by college were the only ones left with me. We hear a noise in the other room. It was my ex-boyfriend Ryan makes pie and sweet tarts. He was setting them in the dishwasher after the oven. He was sobbing.
We all cooked a glorious meal and sat down together. We were all happy in a really sad way. Sharing our very own last supper with each other. The presence of Christ was no where to be found. Everyone equal, always. Our last thanksgiving, everyone home for the last family dinner.
We knew it was over.
We broke all the water pipes in the house. Flooded everything.
Once the water was up to our knees. We each dropped radios, toasters, hair dryers, whatever at the same time. It was the only way.

Then I woke up and went to the store to buy some soda.