Back to the Present

I enter a restaurant/cafe, similar to the ice cream parlor in Fairhaven, and my companion orders a drink. I pass for the moment and notice something odd; all of the espresso machines (there are several) and situated to face outwards from the counter, so the baristas have to come all the way around to make your drink. We head over to the south side of the cafe.
--
Instead I find myself speeding in that direction at a high rate of speed in the driver's seat of some sort of futuristic hovercraft. Doc sits next to me, yelling out directions to dodge our pursuers, who shoot at us with laser beams. I pull down violently on the steering wheel and the vehicle lurches upward steeply. All we can see in front of us now is a star-speckled void. Then slowly, we begin to tip forward, increasing our speed with little hope of avoiding crashing directly through the Wal-Mart below. I turn to the passenger, who is now my companion from the cafe, and inform him/her of our fate. At this point the screen in front of us goes blank and the motion of our car freezes. Instead, the screen illustrates in glowing green arches our projected path of destruction. My companion asks, "Why bother to tell us, when we're going to die anyway?" I point to a blinking arch on the screen, tilt my head sideways, and trace it with my finger. "Because this is the path we're going to take."
Everything unfreezes, and we glide gracefully to the ground.
We step out of the car, no longer very concerned with our pursuers, and walk up the steps to the courthouse. I pass an ugly Asian prostitute with a vicious expression.
--
I step up to the counter, telling the barista not to get up, I'll take care of my drink. I steam pitchers of chai and milk at once. The milk heats much more quickly, and as I turn it off, the chai expands rapidly, threatening to run over and make a mess. Moving at an alarmingly slow pace, I manage to turn the steam off before disaster strikes. I begin to pour the syrupy liquid into a paper cup, but realize I am going to have too much, so I pour the rest into another cup. Adding milk and tasting the result, I realize I have made a serious error in ordering sweet chai, but say nothing. The barista compliments my milk. I thank her and stutter something between "I've been working on it" and "Practice helps". As I finish pouring, another barista rushes up, crying, "Someone's friend is on the phone, he needs to say something but he's about to leave the airport!" With a jolt I realize this is Alex, and I need to say goodbye, although I didn't think it was summer yet. I sprint across the room and seize the phone, but it has already gone dead.
--
Inside the courthouse, I dash up the marble steps, frantically looking for the prostitute. I hope I will recognize her, because she has probably changed drastically in the time that has passed since I first saw her on the stairs out front. I realize now that she is the key to the mishap in time travel. I spot her on the next floor propositioning a lawyer, and I make towards her urgently. The lawyer is annoyed that I think I have a higher priority than him, and the prostitute just looks creeped out, and shuffles away. Growing more frantic, I reach out and grab her arm.
--
In the restaurant, I give Alex a hug. He tries to give me a paper plate for the buffet, and I hug him again. He asks if I have been drinking, and I respond, "No, but I probably should."
The buffet is gorgeous and vegan, with plates of steamed corn, rice, roasted peppers and asparagus. I fill my plate but realize we are late getting to it, and there isn't much food left. I put some back, even though I am starving.
--
Alex, Michelle Burce and I take a walk behind the Wal-Mart. Michelle carries a blanket in a plastic sack, and insists that we take it, because she can't stay to watch the meteor shower. I still don't believe it is summer already.

A New Line of Furniture

At a dusty strip mall in the middle of nowhere. We are having some sort of competition. A timer is set to 7 minutes and 27 seconds. We have that much time to run through the mall and grab the things we want to buy. I am excited because I know exactly what I want.
When the timer starts, I make a beeline for the bookstore. I am looking for the sequel to the book I recently finished, but they don't have it, so I grab one by the same author, but it doesn't look as good. My next stop is a furniture store, where I pick up a curved wooden chair that looks somewhat asian. I continue down the line, and find that they are constructing an Ikea. They are letting people in to the part that is already completed, so I set down my stuff and walk through two large, dark doors.
Inside the building it is night, and several people are standing around. They don't seem to know what to do, so I open another set of doors. Here is some sort of balcony that opens onto train tracks. Towering above us are dark and futuristic buildings, glinting strangely. Everyone stares in wonderment.
As we stand, surrounded by black tile and palm-like plants, we hear a roaring sound and lights appear at the end of the tunnel into which the train tracks disappear. Into view come two large old Model T Fords, with the mottled color of rusty iron. The first misses us and shoots off the other end of the balcony, but the second one is headed straight for us. I hurry everyone through the doors and slam them shut just in time. I hear the angry motor slam against the doors, but they hold. We hurry out of the building, unsure exactly of what Ikea hopes to achieve by that installment. Perhaps it is a new line of furniture.
Back outside, we stand in front of the sepia facades that make the stores look abandoned. I realize that the timer has run out in the excitement, and I didn't get nearly as much as I wanted. I realize that I would rather have had the experience of carnivorous antique trucks than material posessions. I pick up my chair and book and the three of us walk off through the tall grass.