Wednesday, January 16, 2008

In the parking lot, a white van pulls up and sprays us with bullets fired from a loud automatic weapon. Miraculously, I'm only grazed, and Steve is untouched, but I can still hear the sound of the gun rattling in my skull.

We go inside, though-- Steve, Craig, and I. They seem ready to continue on with our day and I'm embarassed because I keep thinking about how that van probably followed us all the way from the airport and I never ever think to look for cars tailing me like that and they could just run up in here and spray the whole place again, couldn't they? I'm nervous, and it's showing, and the lady behind the counter asks what I want. I pretend I'm interested in some miniature Super Nintendo games they have under glass. I reminisce about particular backgrounds in a particular fighting game, trying to take my mind off the shooter.

We walk through a school to get to a recording studio. On the way, a girl explains all the things that are happening in town tonight, and it's like half a dozen things, most of which I would be interested in checking out if I wasn't leaking a little pee every time somebody closes a door anywhere in the building. Steve and Craig express interest in most, if not all, of these events, and my stomach drops-- I don't want to ruin this trip, but the only thing I can think about is getting away from public places asap.

We go back to the school. A lot of ppl I went to school with are sitting at long folding tables, writing out nametags and shit. I see a few I should probably say hi to, but I keep fixing my gaze on vague things in the distance so it looks like I'm looking for something for some important reason and can't talk at the moment. It works.

We leave to walk somewhere else. We walk up an paved incline towards a mall or something. There's a really tall apartment building behind us with a million window-units looking like cyborg barnacles. I notice that there's a thin sheet of water running down half the incline. At least I think it's water-- I bend down to touch it with my finger and I hear a laugh from the direction of the apartment building. I want to to start running, but the ground is wet, and I don't want Steve and Craig to think I'm a total pussy if this laughing is unrelated to the earlier shootings. I don't hear any shots, but I walk faster.