Dreams & Oddities: Bootlegging on a Cold, Russian night.

The other night I had dream nearing nightmare that didn't bother trying to make any sense and even had a few classmates as characters in my midnight oddity.

I, at least, I think I was Nick Carraway-- a character from The Great Gatsby. It was based sometimes during the Prohibition era and I had earned myself as an amateur bootlegger.

It was a cold, winter's night, and I rowed alone in a small boat in the middle of the Pacific. The sky and ocean seemed like an endless abyss, and I was foating in the middle of it. The only colors other than the lifeless black was the dull, yellow light emanating from a small lantern, and the falling white snow that only showed itself when caught in the lantern's gaze.

I pulled ashore on the foreign coast nearby an abandoned train yard. Black monoliths, capped with a white hood lay dormant nearby large, cold building which offered little shelter from the snow that now seemed to glow white against the black of night. My excitement grew as I made it into the building, closing the giant door behind me. As if waiting for me, a small crate filled with bottles of distilled alcohol lay in plain sight. Capless, as if only recently placed there and yet to be buried under fallen snow.

As I picked it up, sirens went off and I heard a dozen denizens donning badges and guns pull up in their loud vehicles. "We've got you surrounded," said one that appeared to be my 10th grade History teacher, but with an old fashion police mustache, "come out with your hands up!" Just then, a few of them entered the building, rushing toward me. Both of them were classmates of mine, Alex and Ryan. Each tried to take me down, but I faked left and made a break for the right, alcohol case in hand. I heard shots being fired behind me as more cops had followed behind and had given up trying to negotiate with me.

Almost to the end of the large hall, a door opened before me. It was Ashley, and she was a Russian cop, like the rest of them. She looked almost surprised to see that I was making a break for that door; apparently she had only come to this back side to make sure no one escaped, but she hadn't really expected one such as I to be so bold as to actually try. As I made it past her, she yelled, "Stop!" and I did. "Is it really worth it?" She asked, gun gripped loosely in both hands.

I turned around, facing her. The snow coated both of our idle bodies and silence reigned through the night. "What's the point of a risk if you don't take it?" I inquired of her. Again silence. The wind blew lightly, yet with power as it stung our pale cheeks. Faintly, the blue and red lights flashed from behind the building. We both stood idle, gazing at each other, neither of us sure of the others move, yet both expecting something favorable from the other.

I slowly turned to six o'clock and marched forward toward the sea. One pull of a finger and my walking ceased. Gently my knees hit the ground and steam rose from the wound in my back. Face first into the scarlet snow I descended, never to rise again. My eyes stared blankly at the horizon, and for a moment I thought I saw a lighthouse. But the instant I realized it, it had disappeared.
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-Sachi
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