Velazquez Painting the Infanta Margarita with the Lights
and Shadows of His Own Glory. Salvador Dali. 1958

Dream (Part II): Colt 45

I don't remember how the dream shifted from the rice crispies to me walking along a sidewalk with three friends, but there I was. An unusually warm night, Jo noticed we were going to pass by a condo where a strange death occurred just a month ago. We were scaring each other, Bert and Vic doing most of the taunting. It was a three storey minimalistic condo with a curtain wall facade. It was the only semi-decent building in the area where it was mostly vulcanizing shops and storehouses. We came to the building directly in front of the condo, an old brick building which must've been a printing press. We stayed there for a moment trying to find that white line they draw around a dead body, when I saw a familiar face coming up in front of us. We hid behind the brick building. Len is an acquaintance of mine, who as it appeared knew someone who lived in the condo. She walked right into the building and a few minutes later one of the units on the third floor was lit. We could see Len and another woman pacing the room.

We were about to leave when a black van slowly pulled to a stop in front of the brick building. We crouched, and crawled behind some bushes on the empty lot beside the brick building. After a couple of minutes, Len came storming out of the main door. We were looking at each other trying hard to conceal ourselves, the bushes weren't that full and a street lamp made it impossible for us to move. Our shadows were cast on another building to our left and any movement could give us away. We heard the van door open, some mumbling, a woman screaming then muffled, the van door closing, a struggle, then complete silence. I didn't exhale once while this was happening. I almost peed my pants when the van door opened again.

Heavy footsteps. I had the courage to peek a little and saw a pudgy man holding a large plastic cup with a red straw. He was looking for something. He was nearing the bushes but veered a little to the left where he stopped and thru the cup in a trash can. He was walking toward the van, but suddenly stopped, turned his head and walk in our direction. My heart was about to jump out of my chest. We were all frozen staring at this man's fierce eyes. He saw us.

The fight or flight response. We were trying to flee but our legs were frozen stiff. When he was about a meter away, and we heard his breathing, all four of us instantaneously stood and charged towards him. Why we did this, I don't know. But the man was taken by surprise, we were able to push him back a good 2 meters or so and luckily into a large window at the side of the brick building. The pudgy man fell in. My ears were burning from all the adrenaline.

I peered into the window and didn't see him, I looked this way and that and finally saw a rifle pointed at me. I ducked and heard the bullet whiz above me. While I crouched behind the window sill I felt a cold metal on my hands. It was a gun, a large gun, a Colt 45 (deus ex machina). I was holding the gun, when Jo screamed pointing at the window. I saw him above me aiming a rifle at someone, I aimed the gun toward him and fired. My eyes were closed when I did this and when I opened them, he was gone all I heard was his profanities trailing off into the distance. We were all running to the street by then. Vic looked at me with the expression "Where did you get that?" We heard another rifle shot. When we turned he was there aiming his rifle again. We all dove face floor into the dirt. We heard a couple of bullets, then a click, click. He was out of bullets.

The fight or flight response. We all stood. As Jo, Vic and Bert were about to run. I stood there in a few meters in front of him, raised the gun, aimed it at him and fired a shot to his chest. He was walking towards me now, blood on his shirt from a bullet hole in his throat. I shot him again in the arm, and the thigh, but he was still walking toward me. I was starting to panic and I was having a hard time aiming the gun with my shaky hands. I was able to shoot another one on his chest when he picked up his speed and crashed into me, driving me to the ground. He was bleeding all over me, I couldn't breathe because of his weight. He opened his eyes, stared at his left hand. I stared at what he was looking at. It was a blinking red light but I couldn't tell what it is. When he did put his forefinger above it, I knew right away it was a button. I turned my head away, and all I see was all a very bright light choking all the shadows that we were casting on the wall.

I asked the dream doctor what these all means. I'm still waiting for a response.