Waterfalls

I'm with Abi walking down this creek by the side of this road, it sort of reminds me of Gladwyn. We're jumping off waterfalls together into crystal pools taking photographs of each other perched on rocks. I'm on this one rock at the bottom of a waterfall, I'm posing in the sun. She's taking pictures of me closer and closer until she kisses me. I back away.

I'm in West Philadelphia where all the Italians used to live, around 63rd and Callowhill. I'm in a rowhome and all my extended Italian family is there including Frank.

I go over the Ben Franklin Bridge with Maddey, I tell her what happened with Abi. We stay in an office building that looks like a room with Greek sculptures in the Metropolitan Museum of Art. We're going to New York.

my boobala wasn't exposed.

I'm in a little motel on a hill off City Line Avenue, I guess it's sort of near Wissahickon. I'm sharing a room with Tom, John and Eric. It's a famiy owned motel- their little girls are running up and down the green carpeted steps.

I'm working the Front End at Whole Foods Market because the bakery wasn't getting enough customers, but I still have to make sure I do my duties in both the bakery and as cashier. I can't do both.

I'm standing on a hill in a bikini I crocheted myself.

(3307) House of Leaves-esque

There's a cave in the apartment of my basement. Tom, Chris DeSimone, Sammy Greenburg and Chris Cho are with me. As we go down into the cave I can feel the space getting larger and larger even though it's becoming darker. It feels as though I'm walking down a steep highway. Someone has a bright spotlight directing us, I can see pine trees, though I still know we're in a basement. I'm afraid of being first in line and last, I don't know whats out there in the dark. It feels like days venturing down- we finally get to a flight of basement steps and we walk into a basement room decorated with early 20th century furniture and vitamins all across the wooden floors. I can feel gel pills under my feet. We're all amazed that someone would dig that far to have their own private room. We go back up to tell others. They all think it's the new thing to do and go without me, even though it's my apartment.

Ellie the cat finds her way into a vat of gross marinara sauce, I have to bathe her while everyone is exploring

SAFE

Tom wants to date Kendra King. I'm upset, but he points out that I'm dating another boy. This boy is a taller lankier version of Tom with bigger teeth. He says that it's unfair that I have another boyfriend and I shouldn't hold him back from hanging out with Kendra romantically on Monday and Tuesday.



I'm outside my grandparent's old house on Pennington Road in Philadelphia. There's a tunnel made of snow leading from the sidewalk to their doorstep that my grandfather built. Next to the entrance of the tunnel is a sign that says "SAFE". I don't remember crawling through, but suddenly I'm on the other side, melting ice with a garden hose on the floor of the tunnel, this causes the tunnel to collapse.

This forest was once underwater

The forest is grey and green, it's twilight. Tom is standing on a large rock next to some large white branches, though they might be ancient bones of a shark's jaw. This forest may have been underwater at one point in time.

The Schuylkill Ocean

I'm on the porch of my apartment, it's about 7 in the morning and the street looks like Front Street under the El in Kensington. Dark from being under traintracks, busy with cars and people and shops. A middle aged black man comes up and asks me for a dollar. I tell him no. Another black man comes up to the porch with a piece of 8x10 paper decorated similarly to money and asks me to confirm whether it's a real $50 bill or not. I tell him no. A neighbor who lives in my building comes up to the porch from a party from the night before with a half a dozen people. There's too many people on the porch. I back up and scream, "If anyone doesn't live here, get off the porch." The black men leave. My neighbor and his friends stare at me.

I go back into my apartment where I begin to eat oatmeal out of my glasses and blue glass bowls. My neighbor and his friends come into the living room, talking loudly and crowding around. I ask them to leave. When they do, all my bowls and glasses are out on the floor, filled with oatmeal and water, all chipped and leaking. Upset, I go into my room where there's a big TV and I listen to the noise of the television. There's nothing on it, no static or programs, but the noise it makes when it's just On. I'm on break at work and I'm home, I only have a half an hour and I'm trying to figure out how many minutes have actually passed. My mom calls me and tells me to meet up with her because she just got out of a doctors appointment in a building close to mine on Powelton Ave. I tell her I'd like to, but that I have to get back to work.

When I do get back to work, I'm trying to figure out how late I am, because I ended up taking a nap too. I see Chris Pasquerello at work and I ask him to help, but he seems very busy. I see my mom sitting down at a table with Allie Manning and another man asking me to sit down and eat. I tell her I can't and I have to go back to work.

I find Kat, my Assistant Team Leader and ask how much work I missed on my break. We're outside the Philadelphia Museum of Art, in the back, and there's some construction going on. It's related to Whole Foods, either that or some other big company. The Schuylkill River is actually the Schuylkill Ocean and this company that I'm related with is dumping 60 million tons of water into it. When they do, the ocean overflows and flows into the fountains of the art museum and then down the steps. I want to go into the water, but when I do I see it's murky and brown with soil and I don't want to be in it anymore.

"it's a good thing I woke up before they poured the cement in my coffin."

Christopher Montgomery had died of a heart attack. His arteries had clogged from too much scrapple, beer, cheese-its, and goldfish.

I was walking through a forest, half Wissahickon, half the grange near the 125 Farwood house, mourning the death of Christopher. I see his mother, Laurie, she's upset but not crying, her face twisted and wrinkled with sadness.

I go to work, still upset, talking to my co-worker, Jo, about Christopher. My work is half Whole Foods and half Maggie Moo's.

I see Christopher through a doorway. He's missing his glasses and on his face is a look of surprise and confusion.

"I thought you died!"
"I did, but it's a good thing I woke up before they poured the cement in my coffin."
"Do you remember being dead? How was it?"
"I don't remember."
"Do you remember slipping into death while you were still alive?"
"I don't remember."