boccaderlupo: Fra' Lupo (Default)
[personal profile] boccaderlupo
I dreamed we were on a highway, somewhere off Route 3 coming home from The City. The wife was driving, and the car looked like a tank with a needle-nosed boring instrument on the front. It was night. There was an exit where an old commercial building once stood that had been made into an exit (or rather entrance) ramp that resembled one of those games kids would play with a ball and chutes: a long, elaborate tunnel winding down and branching off in myriad directions. It almost resembled a mass of veins emanating from a heart.

At any rate, the entrance ramp was something of a labyrinth: you couldn't see around corners, and you could get lost in the network of tunnels. And it was an entrance ramp, meaning cars coming up and onto the highway. But to make the exit you would have to go two miles further west and do a U-turn and come back on the eastbound side, and for some reason I was impatient. I urged the wife to go down the entrance ramp, illegally, against the flow of traffic.

For some reason she listened to me, and the experience was as harrowing as you can imagine. Needle-boring tip forward, we plunged down into these intricate tunnels, with high concrete walls on each side. The only warning another car was coming were lights flashing on the walls up ahead, as the curves were so abrupt. A head-on collision was averted at the last second numerous times. The kids, in the back seat of the "tank," cried with horror and fear, my wife turning the wheel deftly this way and that as we narrowly avoided disaster.

Through sheer luck, though, we can through the other end, spat out in a wide, empty parking lot at night. And we continued on our way.

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boccaderlupo

May 2025

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