The Brute

I don't remember much of the first part of the dream, just the latter portions.

Memory picks up at a point when Anthony and I are walking along Ludlow Street on the west side, and we're at the corner of Ludlow and Guilford. This is the point where a marathon race is happening, and when Anthony and I crest the hill, they think we're running.

I, joking around, cross the finish line, and the woman standing there declared me the third place winner. She then notices that I'm not sweaty, and she says "Did you run?"

"No, but I thought it would be fun to pretend." She rolled her eyes, and Anthony and I head down the hill laughing.

Oddly enough, instead of finding ourselves on the corner of Ludlow and Winslow as would happen in real life, we were now at the entrance to Market Square. Anthony was thrilled because he'd just won a lot of money on the outcome of the race, and he was waving around a wad of money while laughing maniacally. This turned out to be a stupid thing to do.

This really big, and I mean big, guy walked up to Anthony and demanded some of the winnings. Of course, Anthony refused, so the guy tried some intimidation tactics. I stepped between them, shouting for the guy to 'screw off' because there was no way in hell we were just going to give him money.

We walked away, and went into Market Square to get away from him. He followed after us, and grabbed me by the arm. I shrieked for him to let me go, and he responded by punching me in the stomach. I doubled over in pain, and then he picked me up and tossed me into the air.

I hate dreams that end with falling. *shudders*

posted by Lisa at 11:16 AM |