My primary mission was to rescue a fish. I named him Steve after no one in particular. It was important to move him from drought on one side of a large island to the lush, watery wonder world on the opposite shore. All of this happened during a horrible hurricane-force storm, while running, and carrying him by my side.
There were large fields of wind-whipped trees in my direct path. Branches lashed at my legs as I struggled to keep Steve from wiggling out of my grip. I worried constantly about his ability to survive out of water.
I stopped briefly to acquire food from a woman who rambled about the island and her annoying neighbors. She didn’t seem to understand that I was in a hurry (and that she is the annoying neighbor). I fed Steve some small fish so he would survive the journey.
I ran fast for several miles before reaching a wide highway. I could feel that the safety of water was just on the other side, so I waited for a break in traffic and then bolted – dodging cars driven by angry looking hipsters. One man with long, messy blond hair scowled at me from behind the wheel of his jeep – what did he have against Steve?!
Of course the docks were closed for pressure washing, so I was forced to scale a building and slide down a roof. I managed to land without smashing Steve, but an irate woman quickly chased me away. (I must have damaged her building, but I’m sure she has insurance.)
Steve looked anxious as we finally reached a small pond that wrapped toward the ocean. It was time to get him back in the water, but he didn’t want to leave me. I set him loose and told him not to worry – it would be okay. He struggled for a moment, and I thought perhaps he had been out of water for too long. But I kept staring and he reluctantly swam away.
The skies didn’t clear – there weren’t any rainbows. The hipsters still tried to hit me with their cars, which is silly because hipsters don’t have cars. That’s when I realized I was dreaming.