Aliens have invaded our world. We challenge them to a “water soccer” game and lose, the goal keeper fails at the last moment.
The aliens flood the planet. What’s left of humanity takes refuge on Easter Island, where we train to swim underwater so we can search for our most important pieces of art and architecture.
I’m late for work, and I don’t even have my coat because I came home for lunch wearing my employee jacket. As I rush out in the cold my sister is sitting in front of the TV watching Sailor Moon.
In town I come across two old ladies, they are hanging outside an ice cream parlor and talking about phones. I stop and invite them to visit my store. They ask me if I’ve already done my homework. I say,
Ma’am, I’m 33.
The store looks exactly like my home, but there are a bunch of desks in the living room, with girls sitting at them working. Boss Lady calls to announce she’s running a fever and will have to stay at home.
I go to my room, where my cat is sleeping. Just then Boss Lady arrives even though she said she wouldn’t, and she looks pale and sick, with bags under her eyes. A coworker whispers to me that she looks horrible, B.L. turns around angrily and asks what we are talking about. I try to look innocent and say we’re just really worried about her. I go back to my job which is apparently cooking, and we are using Bluetooth plates to share recipes.
Now I’m watching (or living?) a movie about an Indian woman flying to Italy to visit her children and grandchildren. Her plane crashes, killing her husband. She is confined in an embassy, where she has a series of wacky hijinks with ladies of all nationalities.
The woman wants to reach her family in northern Italy, but a massive flood is stopping her. Meanwhile her family is watching the flood on the news: the pets recognize their owners’ grandmother on TV and leave on a crazy adventure to try and rescue her.
I look down from the living room window, the tarmac outside is wet and muddy, looks like a scene after a big flood. There are dozens of little creatures on the ground; some look dead, some fish are floundering wildly, out of oxygen. As I watch it starts raining, and one by one the little animals wake up and scutter away, including the ones I thought were dead, alongside the fish I see turtles, frogs, even an axolotl with its big smile. The last thing I see is a cat running away with a little mouse on its back.
DECADE DREAM JOURNAL 