I used to work in a mailroom, and late in the afternoon, the last thing I'd do before I left for the day was take the mail to the main Post Office at DFW in a large box truck. I'd back the thing up to the dock, where there were about a dozen roll up doors with lift-ramps for semi trailers and box trucks alike. To get to the back of the truck, I'd usually go to the next open roll-up, and climb the lift up to it rather than walk 75 feet to the main door, and walk 75 more feet back to where the truck was. Well, one time there was a semi parked between where I parked the truck, and the door where I climbed through. When I got off the dock onto the ground, I decided to duck under the trailer to get to the truck rather than walk all the way around the thing. When I did, I snagged a new VW shirt on some piece of metal, tore it open, and put a nice painful scrape in my back. I still had to take a bin of registered mail to take to the front counter, and I still had to take the truck back to work. It took 2 weeks for the scratch to heal fully. It was like a foot long, and went from my left shoulder blade to the right half of the small of my back. Ahh, good times.
I was walking through a never-ending warehouse full of art; everything you could think of with some art background in or on it. But when I finally got to the end of a corridor which was covered in textile art and different fabrics, I picked up a large bed quilt which was lying on the floor. Sitting down on the floor, I looked at it and suddenly collapsed into tears as I remembered that it was (in my dream, not in real life) the quilt that me and my now dead friend made together when we were younger.
The last thing I remember was the quilt shooting back up and slowly falling down again; covering my whole body, which caused me to wake up.
I know it may sound strange, but I had to investigate further into why I had this dream. So I've just started to look through my cuboard which is full of old art stuff and right at the back, I found a sketchbook of old graffiti and silly doodles that me and my friend (who unfortunately, is dead ) used to draw in when we were younger. It made me slightly upset just thinking about it.
crazyQH wrote:Ok EPAF, I'm officially granting you the title of having the best dream ever.
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