In the dream, there is something wrong with the transmission, and I'm trying to limp it home. It's not clear where I am, but I have to drive up a long but gradual grade, turn left, then drive up another long, even more gradual grade. I'm trying to do this without stopping because I'm afraid if I stop I won't be able to start again.
I make the right turn successfully, grinding along in first gear, and am headed up the second hill, when suddenly, up ahead of me, a big car comes barreling through from a side street on the left. It's a big 70s model station wagon, like an Oldsmobile or Buick. The driver makes a wide left turn and badly sideswipes another big 70s model car parked on the side of the street. He hits the parked car hard... almost hard enough that it's more like a collision than a sideswipe.
The station wagon pulls away then stops. The driver leans out the window to see how bad the damage is. (My dreams even have continuity errors: from that angle, there's no way he could see the car he'd just hit. He would've had to have looked out the passenger side window.)
The guy is in his late thirties or early forties, has black tousled hair, a kind of a wild-eyed goofy grin, and his face is covered with green greasepaint except around his eyes and mouth.
He pulls his head back into his car and drives off. I follow him and try to write down his tag number. I got the first three letters down - it was H something something - but then I woke up.
2 comments:
I'm thinking Jim Carrey in The Mask. That movie was heinous. Even without midgets. Sometimes a green face is just a cigar.
blogblah!!!
I like this drawing (or, as the Brits say, a "drawr-ing.")
I want some drawings of humans with cat heads and faces...cat-people carrying briefcases, businessmen in their suits squatting in giant litter boxes.
Cool dreams, too. All of mine occur during the day, when I'm supposed to be working.
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