Uncategorized

8/10
I'm with my family, trying to travel back to Boston. For some reason, we keep getting on a maze of connecting flights and being redirected to various airports, so after what feels like a long time, we are actually in Atlanta. For my part, I'm OK with this--in fact I've kind of settled in for a long journey. Now, instead of taking another plane, we take a train instead. It seems to go uneventfully at first, but as we near the station at the end of the line, it becomes obvious that the train is going to have a hard time stopping. It doesn't slow down, though--it speeds up! I realize that I'm probably going to die, although this thought doesn't seem to bother me at all. I turn to P~, who's sitting next to me; I kiss him gently on the lips and tell him that I love him. The train hurtles into the station, then brakes all at once--but we don't crash. Instead, in defiance of physics, we lose speed rapidly but at a controlled rate. The back of the train lifts up briefly, as if supported by a cushion of air, before we come to a gentle stop. My family and I pick up our things and head out; as we leave, I see a sign that advises passengers of trains' sudden deceleration when arriving at this station. The sign _does_ say that there's some danger involved, but somehow I feel that because it's been acknowledged, there _is_ no danger, and that we were never going to come to any harm.

As we leave the station, I realize we actually are in Boston. I'm a little disappointed; I was getting into the groove of traveling and kind of wanted to keep doing it! My mom splits off from the group and leaves to go somewhere. P~ has disappeared and I don't see him again. That just leaves my dad, whom I follow through the city to a building I identify as his office. We enter and I follow him through a labyrinthine, dimly lit series of halls. It's a regular office building, nothing sinister about it, but it seems pretty run down and in bad need of maintenance and cleaning. We stop in a large bathroom. There is water running down the walls--it's almost a waterfall--and a large, deep pool of standing water on the floor, although the section we're standing in is dry. Apparently this is where my dad works. How can someone work in an environment like this? I haven't seen anyone else in the building so far, and my dad hasn't said a word to me either. It's desolate and lonely here. I wake up.

8/6
I'm in a bar that is actually an online chatroom, yet I have the feeling of being inside it and occupying a physical space. It's wood paneled and there are several tables arranged in the room, each with a host of seats. It reminds me strongly of the Tavern chatroom in those old Sierra games Shadow of Yserbius/Fates of Twinion, even though those were literally just chatrooms with no visuals beyond their title. Anyway, there is a chat log here that I can see, kind of superimposed/off to the side from the room itself. In it I can see that this is a room for canine furries like myself (so the assumption is that there are several other rooms with similar specialization). I can see S, a coyote like me, has posted a message asking where the other coyotes are. I look around and the place is empty except for me, so his message must have been posted a little while ago. Since it's empty, I don't see the point in hanging around, so I go idle.

When my awareness returns, some time has passed, and now the room is bustling. There are several tables full of guests, and there are also a couple of tables with only one person sitting at them--my table is one of those. I assume the others are idling like I had been, or maybe they're just loners? I think they might not want to be bothered, and then realize that's probably what other people have thought when observing my table, so that might explain why no one is here with me. I feel a little lonely. I look through the list of tables/users and I can see S is here now, but his table is filled up with other coyote people. Now I really am kicking myself. I should have at least left a response to his earlier note so he knew I'd be around; I would have liked the chance to talk with him. It's not _technically_ too late; there's probably still space at the table for me to join, but now I feel self-conscious since their conversation is probably in full swing and I worry they'd think I was strange for joining it out of the blue.

No recall for 8/7 (today).