Saturday, March 19, 2011

The Mouse Trap Apostates


I have never seen any sort of vehicle with the sign “ESTIMATOR” on it but there it was in the dream, passing me and looking all official and governmental. It was a mundane dream, with nothing much happening at all in it. One of my co-workers and I were riding around looking for something, and I have no idea what it was, but we had to stop at several different locations to look for it. We stopped at a convenience store to get a drink and there was a man in the store who was pointing towards whatever he was talking about and he held his hand in front of my face, I told him to stop he took exception to me asking, and in the exchange that followed I got what I get a lot of when speaking to strangers around here, and that is the question as to where I’m from.  To people from other places I sound like I’m from Georgia but I don’t to a lot of natives. Using English with grammar and real words has a tendency to throw people off a bit, and the guy in the dream was one of those “Where are you from, boy?” type people who get insulted at the idea of someone speaking correctly, and yes, it does happen.
            So in the dream, after the confrontation of sorts with the guy in the store, we’re walking along and someone comes up and tells me “Ron is pretty mad at you” and I tell them I don’t know who Ron is, and they tell me it’s the guy in the store and I tell them so what? But all of this seemed very real and you have to admit there isn’t anything at all here that would lead you to believe is was a dream, right? And it gets no scarier at all, with me suddenly on top of a hill explaining to a group of people how a mouse trap works. It was as if I had broken down a nuclear reactor and was trying to get people to buy into radiation containment. Yeah, but what if the mouse isn’t killed outright, then you have to kill it, right? What if my children find the trap and stick their fingers in it? Try it. Get out a mouse trap and explain out loud how it works and see how long it takes. Where are the batteries? How long does the spring last? That last question was one the people really focused on. What do you mean you don’t know how long it lasts? I mean, if it gives out after a few times, I‘m pretty much screwed, right? Now remember, I wasn’t selling mouse traps, or setting mouse traps, but merely explaining them. I had no idea what to tell these Mouse Trap Apostates. It wasn’t important to me, I didn’t feel as if my world was coming to an end if they didn’t like how a mouse trap worked, but it was more than just a little weird. One guy kept asking, would it catch a bird? Would it catch a snake? Would it catch a fish? Would it catch a zebra? No, not a zebra but he did list a lot of common animals that had no chance in hell of ever getting caught in a mouse trap. No sir, your horses are entirely safe from this device, I assure you that your wooly mammoth will not be maimed.
            I walked down the hill and there was a nice little pond with good trees, and moss. There were lily pads and it was very pretty. A woman came up to me and asked me how I had found out about mouse traps and if I had really seen one work, and it was getting to the point of aggravation.  Just try one, you know, they aren’t really that expensive. That seemed to hurt her feelings and she told me she noticed people treated pretty women better than she, and had she been beautiful I would have offered her a mouse trap. I told the woman I had no mouse traps, really, I didn’t and she seemed to take it personally.
            All of the scenes were shifting around and blending into places I’ve been and places I have never seen before. The hill is in Valdosta, the convenience store in Lake Park, the pod doesn’t exist, and some of the places melded into one another seamlessly. The mind uses reality as scaffolding in dreams I suspect, and Lake Park, a little town I have never spent much time in at all, is not somewhere I would have thought would pop up in a dream. The store is there but I don’t remember ever being there but it is possible I have been.
            The scene shifts again and this time I’m in Donalsonville Georgia where I once lived, back in my old neighborhood, where I bought my first house, and it is a very pretty day. I like where I once lived even though it was in a subdivision and the people were far too close together. There was a very large black dog that lived there who had one ear that drooped over a little and the other stood up. He would come visit me, and looking back on it at this very moment, I realize he’s very likely dead now. It’s odd because after ten years he should be because he was already fairly old, but it never occurred to me he would be until right now.
I was standing in my yard and a car came down the road with “ESTIMATOR” on the side and it crashed into a utility truck, and the truck slammed into the pole they were working on. The car burst into flames, someone screamed and the power lines fell from the pole, smoking and crackling. I fell down, and couldn’t run from it, and I saw the electricity, white hot and sparkling like a fuse, running just above the ground. I told myself to try to stay alive as long as I could but when the energy slammed into me it overwhelmed me, and I felt everything stop, and I was dead.

Take Care,
Mike

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