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Location:Purdue, University, United States

I have a need for coffee with my oxygen.

Wednesday, April 06, 2005

The air was stifling hot.
It was almost unbearable to breath.
The moment she stepped into the café it felt cooler and her skin felt the relief. The dirt floors were hard against her leather sandals, but the earth smell was strangely comforting. As her eyes adjusted to the room, she could feel her body slowly cool, and a drop of sweat slowly made it’s way down the back of her neck.

"This has to be the place," she thought, but as she peered around the place she couldn’t make out his face. At the same time she felt that she couldn’t make out anyone’s face, it seemed as if no one even glanced in her direction as she walked in. "Odd," she thought, but proceeded deeper into the café, trying to catch a glimpse of his face. The only one she could see clearly was the bartender, and it seemed as if his eyes never left her.

"Don’t think," she said to herself. After a few moments, she saw the hint of light of another entrance. Quickly she darted off the other side of the café to the furthermost part of it where she could see a soft light coming from a doorway. She flung the door open and walked out onto the hazy alcove, the roof seemed to be made up of scattered palm fauns on a matrix of boards, and the floor was dirt like the rest of the café. People were scattered about at various tables.
"Too many people," she thought...

Sometimes I have vivid dreams. Then when I wake up, or when I think back to the dream I can remember things about the dream like what I was thinking, and how hot it was, and the sweat dripping down my back.
It is much more fun to write them in a illogical story, than it is to remember them and wonder what they mean.

Ps. The story idea came from S m i t h a 's blog


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