Hard as we tried we couldn't outrun them.
We could barely out-drive them as we zig-zagged through the unfamiliar streets of an unfamiliar city.
This wasn't the Manhattan we remembered.
If we could just find a way out of the city, if we could just find a way to(more) the Holland Tunnel, or the Lincoln Tunnel or whatever the fuck they called it in this alternate reality because no way in hell this was the city I knew and I wanted out of there asap.
Of course I knew I was caught in a dream and we wouldn't get out of there until I woke up. Or I wouldn't wake up until we got out of there.
Was this even my dream or was I stuck in someone else's dream?
Buildings miles tall and claustrophobic, everything gray and colorless but for the mad blood-red grins on the faces of those things flying after us.
They were vampires, somehow I knew this, but I never imagined a flock of vampires flying in a V formation like birds headed south for the winter.
They drooled fire as they buzzed down nearer to the car we'd stolen fleeing the city. The streets were all the same, a tangled mess incomprehensible and not a person to be seen anywhere.
Even the fire drizzling down upon us was colorless but it burned like acid wherever it landed.
I huddled in the backseat of an unfamiliar clutter-filled car watching out the back window as we tore through the streets trying to evade those snarling creatures. Nearly impossible as they flew after us buzzing down, toying with us like a clowder of cats with a near-dead mouse.
"Wake up,"I heard myself say as my eyes opened only to find myself huddled in a backseat,vampires flying behind us.
Fair to say that my dream got worse and worse when I started flying.
I'm still paying a $10K fine I ended up with when i got arrested the first time: On the roof, new goggles and windbreaker, exercising my best judgement in aligning myself with a passing jetliner(more). My ascent was not too shabby, and I kept up with no effort. I even forced a smile against the wind, thinking nothing of the shocked passengers taking flash pictures with their phones.
Three days later, my picture was identified and I was arrested in my own apartment. Endangering the flight pattern of a commercial airliner.
Three days in jail was not enough to stop me from flying.
Pneumonia and a 106 fever was.
I had to walk everywhere, coughing and drooling and blinking hard. People stared and pointed at me, the flying boy who wasn't even flying. Who does he think he is? What a shame.
Couple weeks later I got a job transporting organs around the world. Not what you're thinking. Church organs: piece by piece, pipe by pipe. I could fly, but wasn't strong enough to lift an entire organ. Still, I got a hernia in both ears. An air pressure thing, can you believe it? Did I mention the constant lack of oxygen decreased my IQ? Problem is I can't perceive it.
I've turned to bird-watching. They're tough to follow without hearing, so I bring them down with a sling-shot. My drawings of them are on display in the Premium Passenger's Lounge of the airline that sued me. Terminal D, I think.
I have a dream. On different days, but it is always the same one. It is really the only thing I can count on to be there for me. When it begins, I am in a mall, or maybe an airport, going down an escalator. My hands are in(more) cuffs. Going down means the loss of my freedom, and probably my sanity. Perhaps because I am so disheartened, I'm not sure, the windows break. They all smash at the same time. I do not know why, but I think the heavens are sending me a sign. I break away from my captors, and very suddenly, my handcuffs are like paper. I rip them, and the bonds tying me are no longer there. I run, out through a window and into the wild. I fly away, like a bird. I go where no one can find me unless they aren't trying. Maybe I will be caught some day, but at this moment, I am happy, and I am free.(less)