A Typical Dream...

Going back and rereading this story, I remember why I've never posted it. Oh well... Basically one day I felt like writing something new but had no clue as to what, so I just sat down and wrote. Haha, it's pretty bad...

I'm starving. It's boiling hot out as the sun beats down on me and my companion. I'm not sure exactly who he is, but I think he's good. Here to help me at least. He's wearing one of those Eskimo fur coats for some reason, and he has a beard about as long as my legs. And he's short. Shorter than me. And I'm shorter than
short, which makes him, well, extremely short. I wish I had brought a coat because I seem under-dressed in my froggy tank-top and pink pajama shorts. There is someone else smoldering in this heat with us now. She's wearing a coat too. An orange one. Now I know I am the odd one out.

The sand dissipates under our feet, and we enter some sort of hotel, or maybe it's a museum – I'm not sure. I just wish I was home. Why am I here anyways? And I desperately need a bathroom. I'd ask the bearded man but I really don't know him. He smells funny too. A familiar smell, but I can't place it.

“Where are we?” I ask as he leads me through giant set of double doors. They snore on their creaky hinges like they've been sleeping for ages, but I know they haven't. There are tons of people swarming in here. Their chatter reminds me of a beehive my brother showed me once. He had stuck a stick in it and told me to stand still.

“Where are we?” I dare to raise my voice above the buzz again. The midget man doesn't answer. He just barrels right through the crowd, expecting me to follow. I don't know where the woman went. Maybe to the bathroom. Man, I need that place more than ever now. I glance back toward the double doors, but they are shut now. If I had the guts I'd ask the man, but I don't trust him, not one bit. Besides, he probably wouldn't answer me anyway. My eyes search for him in the sea of people, but I've lost him. You would think it would be easy to spot him in that coat, but everyone here is wearing coats. I am practically naked in my pajamas. At least nobody was staring – yet. As if on cue, a lady turns around and gasps.

She elbows a pudgy man next to her. “Do you see that girl? What's up with mothers teaching their children to go around without coats these days?”

“Did your Momma teach you to wear hairy coats in the dead heat of summer?” I ask her in my head.

“Yes,” Her voice pops into my mind. “Did yours not? Who is your mother?”

“She's at home,” I say and run for a tiny green door on my left. I have to find a bathroom.