I don't remember much, certainly not much that's coherent, from last night's REM sessions. And by the time I'd climbed the gravity well that shields me from full consciousness in the mornings most of what I did remember was in tatters.
But I do remember it involved someone getting married the day after. The bride was having doubts and, naturally, had fallen head over heels in love with me. At some point a friend from primary school (Shaun) was test driving his new submersible jeep in the flood waters that, conveniently, had just risen up beside us. As I recall he went into intricate detail about how not to overstrain the engine when driving fully submerged, and how he'd cut it out once or twice already.
Cue the alien space invasion, of all things, and the attempts by two of us to change the course of the future (apparently we'd been there once and didn't like what we saw) by shooting one of ourselves in the leg (I don't remember which of us, or what the other did). All this actually meant was that when he was teleported into position for his battle his combat exoskeleton was warped to fit his crippled leg.
The last thing I remember was a rousing speech I gave, interrupting a play at my old high school, urging the audience into a battle frenzy (following which they raced out into their fighters and launched themselves into orbit).
What would the world do without me?
Posted at 12:38 PM
