A picture of a beautiful naked lady. by Hemingway


a picture relevant to this story.

I’ll never forget this strange dream I had a few months ago. In the dream, it was night time. It was something like a parking lot outside of a nightclub. There was this guy holding on to this girl and he had a gun to her head and there was another girl facing them, and she was trying to figure out what to do. The girl trying to figure out what too do looked like the pretty, dark-haired girl with the horrible Brooklyn accent from Orange is the new Black, which I watched just before going to bed, so at least that part made sense. During this dream I moved between the characters briefly; I was never the guy with the gun, but at times I'd be the Orange is the new Black girl, and at times I'd be the hostage girl or a spectator. When I was the spectator, I could see that the guy was using the hostage girl he was holding as leverage and he plainly wanted to hurt the pretty girl. After a tense few moments, I permanently became the spectator with my position behind and to the left of the guy holding the hostage girl (with his right arm around her) and the pretty girl was facing him and me.

The pretty girl said, "What do I have to do to get you to let her go?"

The guy said, "Just take this cigarette." And he reached out to her with his left hand. In it was a pack of Marlboros with one cigarette extended out of the pack.

Another long and tense moment followed with scenes cutting back and forth for me - the spectator, just as if I was watching this on TV, then finally the pretty girl slowly, very slowly and with much uncertainty on her face, leaned forward and put her ruby red lips on the extended cigarette. Then, (and this was really agonizingly tense and slow) she removed the cigarette from the pack with her mouth.

As soon as the cigarette came clear from the pack, the end ignited - the end you actually light - and this miniature blue yellow rocket flame emerged, and from the other end, the end in the pretty girl's mouth, a dart came out a high velocity and I imagine it just went through the back of her mouth and into her neck or spine.

The pretty girl simply stood there for another moment with a look of shock on her face, then blood started pouring out of her mouth around the cigarette, then she fell over face-forward, dead.

I guess now in hind-sight I should have expected something bad but I was so shocked and surprised by the dart that I woke up.

And here's the thing that gets me. It was MY brain and MY dream - how did I not know what was going to happen? How it is possible that I had no idea at all how the a dream that I wrote in my mind was going to end?

Over coffee at breakfast, I told the story to my wife, Shaneequa. I said that I expected that something might come out of the box, but I thought that the girl might have been able to avoid it. Shaneequa said that as I told her the story, that she thought that acid or poison might be on the cigarette...

I just find it freaky that your brain can surprise you like that in your dreams. It's like another entity independant from me is writing the content of the dream and presenting it to me each evening.