Midnight Rendezvous-Entry 25

I had an odd dream last night.

Well, technically it's been going on for quite some time, and some of them felt so real, I dunno whether it's supposed to be a dream or a brief childhood memory.

It was always the same dream:

I was 5 years old again, just a few months shy of first meeting Jan. I was at the backyard playing with the water hose and making my own mud castles, generally making a mess of myself as people my age were wont to do. Then I would have the urge to look up, and I would see a tall, bald man kneeling down towards me and his long, lithe hand reaching over to pat my head. Weirdly enough, I wasn't scared of this guy. Well, maybe a little, but somehow at the same time, his presence comforted me.

But I could never make out his face.

That dream has been going on and on for quite a while now. I dunno, maybe about a week? Two weeks? It was almost always the same thing. I was 5, I was doing something and he would come and pat me on the head, and I couldn't see his face. That's all it seemed to be every time.

Could it be Pops? I wouldn't know. Pops left when I was one month old, remember? Even if I want to remember, I dunno how the hell he looks like.

Meanwhile everyone in this apartment was like in curfew mode, since the boys in blue weren't really doing shit. Once it was dark, the rents would lock their kids in the house and Bart the security would bring his gang along (don't even ask me how he got a hold of those motherfucker-looking gangsters) and beef up the security, patrolling the area like it was some sorta Nazi-watch.

Hadn't had a missing kid in a while, but occasionally someone's pet might disappear.

Crap, now it reminds me of Bushy.

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