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Tigers on the roadside
Jun. 22nd, 2022 06:17 amI dreamed there were tigers the size of school buses. There were only a few of them still left in the world, maybe a couple hundred, and they lived in an area of our town that was heavily wooded. The government was planning to knock down the trees and convert the area into extra lanes for the Garden State Parkway, so there was a process whereby they were killing the tigers. Outright slaughter. Several bulldozers would pin the animal from different sides of its great torso, and then people would shoot it with machine guns and light it on fire. There was a scene in the park where they were slaughter one of these great beasts right before our eyes; my son began to cry, and I hugged him and turned away. There was nothing we could do.
*
I dreamed a friend of mine from the gym, a rather short lady, was going to be in an MMA fight with an aging fight star, a dude. She had been training for months. The octagon was set up inside an old abandoned diner up on Route 23. The place was mobbed, with people standing out in the parking lot, and I couldn't get in. I parked the car a distance away and walked over, but only caught a glimpse of her walking out through the crowds; she had won by Americana, apparently, but I didn't get the chance to speak to her.
As I walked back to the car, I noticed the hood had been propped open. Somebody had stolen the battery from my car; a hooded figure, short, ran through the night with the battery towards a black van, where a heavyset woman, the getaway driver, was at the wheel. The hooded thief bounded into the vehicle and they took off, but I managed to grab onto the door and pulled it open, prompting the driver's face to go pale white as she recoiled in horror.
*
I dreamed a friend of mine from the gym, a rather short lady, was going to be in an MMA fight with an aging fight star, a dude. She had been training for months. The octagon was set up inside an old abandoned diner up on Route 23. The place was mobbed, with people standing out in the parking lot, and I couldn't get in. I parked the car a distance away and walked over, but only caught a glimpse of her walking out through the crowds; she had won by Americana, apparently, but I didn't get the chance to speak to her.
As I walked back to the car, I noticed the hood had been propped open. Somebody had stolen the battery from my car; a hooded figure, short, ran through the night with the battery towards a black van, where a heavyset woman, the getaway driver, was at the wheel. The hooded thief bounded into the vehicle and they took off, but I managed to grab onto the door and pulled it open, prompting the driver's face to go pale white as she recoiled in horror.
