In my dream, I was in the army. But when I fired my gun, I didn't kill anyone. They would just keep coming and coming, over the dusty, dirty hill that was dotted with patches of green and brown grass and wavy, straw-like grains. Then I'd look over the hill and they'd be gone, and the hill became an expanse, a valley, that went on forever. So I forced myself over the hill and then I fell and rolled, but I didn't feel like I was rolling and I couldn't feel the bumps and I should have been bruised but I wasn't, probably because I was dreaming.
And I stood up with my gun at the ready...but there was no enemy, only this empty plain that stretched on forever.
So I sat down and laid my gun on my lap and I had a smoke. Only I don't smoke. So I started coughing. So I dropped the cigarette and it set the grass on fire. And there was fire all around me like in a ring and I got up and gaped at it, open mouthed I gaped at it, standing, ready to shoot something. But nothing came and it was hot. And I was scared.
And then I woke up.
* * *
"So, what do you think, Doc?"
"What do you think, John?"
"I think I'm getting hot under the collar!"
"What is that, some sort of movie line?"
"I think so. Probably not."
"What do you think your dream meant, John?"
"What do you think?"
"I think you have some unresolved conflicts."
"Pffffft. Okay..."
"I think you're angry and helpless. And you realize your only enemy is the one you can't fight -- yourself."
"Well, yes. That's all true, but..."
"But what?"
"But I think it was about my frustrations..."
"Yes, that's what I said..."
"...about my inability to successfully gain super powers."
"That's funny..."
"You see, I tried to irradiate a spider. But it's not easy to find radiation. They don't sell it at Radio Shack."
"I'd imagine not..."
"Cosmic rays aren't easily available, either."
"I'm not familiar with..."
"So, I've been working in my garage on an exoskeleton. Mostly with scrap metal and transistors, some old machine tools and minimotors."
"And what will this exoskelton do for you?"
"The exoskel-e-ton will give me super strength, of course. and I'll be bulletproof. Mostly."
"So, when you say 'bulletproof' that's really a metaphor for ..."
"Protecting me from bullets, yes."
"And who would be shooting at you?"
"Villains. Look, if you're not going to take me seriously, I'm going to have to..."
"Are you threatening me?"
"... take you to my garage and show you. It's really cool."
"That's okay. I believe you."
"You do?"
"No, I don't."
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