zzambrosius_02

I had the weirdest dream last night. I’ve been pondering it all day, and beginning to elaborate it a bit, (For purposes of Fiction...) so I’m writing the bones of it down here before it gets too distorted. 

I “wake up”.

Marian is sitting on the bed beside me, dressed for work and looking at her Mac. I glance at the clock and so does she: 8:06 it says.

She says: “Oh shit!” and closes the Mac and runs downstairs. I can hear her shoes clomping around as she gets her coat and stuff. I get up and start getting dressed: long sleeved red t-shirt, knee-high wool socks, stripy PJ pants and Skechers. While I’m doing that I holler: “If you miss the bus I’ll take you to work!”

She says something but I can’t understand it.

Time skip.

I’m getting off the bus in Downtown Eugene. It is recognizable as such because of the bus station, the Library, and the Atrium Building. But there are a lot of Soviet style “Brutalist” buildings interspersed around the area...like Bauhaus on steroids. There is a lot more auto traffic; there is a freeway flyover that passes over the Library.

 
I’m looking around, confused. I can’t seem to think straight. I say: “What am I doing here?” Then I remember: “I was taking Marian to work...But I’m not in my truck, I rode the bus.”

I start looking for the truck anyway. A lot of the folks walking around—maybe 90%—have various improvised facemasks on. I get nervous, wondering if I should have one, too.

Time skip.

Now I’m at a café called “Jazzy Ladies” (a real place). I decide that since I have a bunch of cash in my pocket and I’m really hungry, I’ll order breakfast and drink a bunch of coffee and see if that gets my head on straight. I order.

The cook comes out from the back and asks me some odd question about my order. I notice that his eyes are bloodshot and glassy and he has a nosebleed. I answer him and he goes back to the kitchen. I decide to leave.

I slurp all the coffee and leave three twenties on the table and get out of there.

Time skip.

I’m in some other café and I look across the street at the overpass (Ferry Street Bridge Access). It’s three times the size of what it is in real life and literally shaking with stop-and-go traffic. For some reason I look at a particular concrete strut/diagonal support and think: ‘I should put one of the bombs right there.’ I start to get up to go do that when I realize that I’m still in my pajama pants and the bombs are in the cargo pants.

Time skip.

I’m heading for a bus stop near Jazzy Ladies to catch the #40 bus to go home. The 40 pulls away before I can board, so I’m stuck for ½ hour. There are even more Brutalist buildings thereabouts.

I notice that some people are wearing masks, but many more have taken them off. The people without masks are bloodshot and glassy eyed and most of them have nosebleeds. I keep moving around, not wanting any of them behind me. When I have a chance to get close to the bus stop, I see signs with OCF “Peach” logos that announce that “due to circumstances etc. only healthy people can board the bus to the Fair Site and once you’re there, you can’t leave.”

I notice other signs saying that healthy people can take any outbound bus, but no passengers may come back inbound. The sick people start to move in my direction.