Dreamy.
I dreamt that I was walking down a snowy Chicago street at night with my brother, Mike Baughman. We walked for miles and miles, and the sights were breathtaking and bewildering. All the cars and streetlights were viewed via long exposures with our eyes. All headlights and taillights blurred, and the light from such industry took on more artistic forms.
We stopped by a great banquet center (similar to Fort Wayne's Grand Wayne Center) and watched several teens walking about there, doing the foolish things teens often do.
When we took our gaze from there, we decided to walk in the middle of the road.
After a few minutes of such asinine behavior, a shiny vanilla Cadillac slammed its brakes, nearly smashing into Mike. The 40-year-old man, wearing a nice white suit and a red scarf, exited the vehicle and began screaming at us. He was so obnoxious that we didn't move for him, so he got back into his car and threatened to run us over.
We didn't budge.
His face turned red, and he threw the car into reverse. After backing up about 100 feet, he pushed it into drive and ran Mike over.
Mike was stuck underneath the tire, somehow unharmed. I walked over to the driver's side door and pulled the man out of the car and told him we would sue him.
I tried to push the off of my brother, who had fallen asleep.
Then I awoke.
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