rshort1202

I’m with Melissa, in our house. I think we are about to go on a trip. I know it has been raining lately, and I’ve noticed a tiny crack in the ceiling that wasn’t always there. Now when I look again it is even longer and deeper. I show Melissa, and by the time she comes over it is bigger yet and the outlined portion looks unsteady. We watch as it slowly cracks more and the now giant chunk falls out of our ceiling and onto the couch. (The layout of the house feels similar but maybe arranged in the opposite direction - like the couch, and with even higher ceilings. It seems dim). Dumbstruck, I go over to it and look unbelievingly into the exposed attic. I touch the portion on the couch, as if I’m just going to put it back. It has a texture exactly like wet paint. I don’t know why it would be wet. I don’t know what to do or how much this is going to cost.


I’m in what feels like a different state, at what looks like a BBQ food truck. I’m with some others who order first. I’ve barely had time to look when I’m up. I tell the man I’ll just have a combo plate and ask what his favorites are. He enthusiastically tells me, and I agree to them. Now, I’m reparking my car here. I go down a very small hill, which the spots surround. I back my car up, aiming between two parked cars. I do a really bad job and back into one of them because I haven’t straightened out enough. I don’t think there’s any damage, so I just fix it. I also end up making art for this guy (over a period of time) in exchange for food