December 1, 2003

Age 22

This was a very long dream, so it seems. It begins with me getting a telephone call that I've won a prize of a lot of money, and that I must use it to invite some friends to go on a luxury trip to Las Vegas. I choose some of my friends (Billy P, Jennifer L, and KQ). I remember packing a very compact old green suitcase, similar to one I have made in the 60's. I remember it having only a very shallow chamber that I barely fit some socks and a shirt into. I bought the tickets with my prize money, and line up with my friends at the entry to the metal detectors. I remember us being held there for a long time waiting for a plane (a South West airlines plane) to take off before we could go through the screeners, so I talked at length with my friends, thougth I can't remember what we talked about.

As part of the prize perhaps, I got to sit next to the only pilot on the plane, a very elderly man. Billy, Jennifer, and KQ sat behind us in navigator seats. I remember doubting the abilities of the pilot as he looked frail and confused. We taxied for take-off, and for some reason, I had a rush of anxiety overtake me, so I closed my eyes. For a long time I kept my eyes closed as I felt us lift off the ground and climb sharply into the blue, cloudless sky. After perhaps ten minutes I opened my eyes, but immediately the pilot lost control, and we rolled upside-down and began to decend out of control.

Eventually the pilot regains some uneasy control over the plane and we circle back for an emergency landing. On the second approach, we landed, and now it was dark outside suddenly. I sensed our plane was being surrounded by authorities and emergency vehicles, and I remember seeing red siren lights cross into the windshield of the cockpit. I unbuckled my seatbelt and prepared to stand, but the pilot became hostile and demanded we stay seated, saying that this was "my plane" and we had to 'do it his way'. After a long stand-off with a gathering police force, I noticed they assembled and aimed a large black gun-like weapon at our cockpit. The next thing I remember is seeing blue and red pulsation eminating from the barrel: sonic shockwaves that directly targeted and disabled the pilot, knocking him unconscious.

We then quickly exited the fuselage, and I eventually arrived back "home", in some kind of hotel room. KQ was standing next to me and sat on the bed, shaking. I asked what was wrong, and KQ replied that never again could we go on a plane because the experience scared KQ. I quipped something light-hearted, and KQ smiled. I stood up, now only robed in a towel, and KQ reached out to rub the towel. I spun around in surprise, and KQ just sat there smirking.