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beccaelizabethHad a dream. You know that story ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
glossing wrote, And I Feel Fine, with Devon, Oz and Lorne? I dreamed they kept on going, across America, taking turns driving.
And this was like road movie America, where the scenery is half the point, and everything is so big it makes you think 'cinematography', and 'technicolor', and probably would if you were sitting right there in the car too.
So they kept on going until they were someplace where the road kept on forever, out in every direction, just flat yellow land full of farms and flat black road ribbon. But the deceptive kind of flat, where entire towns are hiding in the dips. Not what you'd call a town compared to most places, but with a stop light and everything.
By now Devon is in the back and he's fidgety and tired and shit, and letting everyone know it of course. Like driving with a toddler, except toddlers are rarely quite so vocal about being out of weed. So they go around the outside and come to the motel on the other side of town and decide to finally stop.
On the other side of the road is some roadside attraction. You know, heartland of America, look at our ball of string? Like that. Except Dev thinks it looks more like rusted metal graveyard, and maybe some movie he's seen but never really thought about.
The ground is yellow, the sky is blue, the building is kind of black and kind of red. Like the prologue to a horror movie, everything so wholesome and four color it hurts, and then this one detail that doesn't fit.
Oz gets the keys, and Dev trails along after him into their room.
Behind them a guy steps out from behind another car and squints after them, then pulls out his glasses and puts them on. Big, thick, round frame glasses. The motel guy walks over and says "Are they the men, Agent?"
"Yeah. They're the guys. Straight out of Los Angeles. But don't worry, if they had anything to do with it, they won't get much further."
To which I say: Huh.
/Oz.
glossing wrote, And I Feel Fine, with Devon, Oz and Lorne? I dreamed they kept on going, across America, taking turns driving. And this was like road movie America, where the scenery is half the point, and everything is so big it makes you think 'cinematography', and 'technicolor', and probably would if you were sitting right there in the car too.
So they kept on going until they were someplace where the road kept on forever, out in every direction, just flat yellow land full of farms and flat black road ribbon. But the deceptive kind of flat, where entire towns are hiding in the dips. Not what you'd call a town compared to most places, but with a stop light and everything.
By now Devon is in the back and he's fidgety and tired and shit, and letting everyone know it of course. Like driving with a toddler, except toddlers are rarely quite so vocal about being out of weed. So they go around the outside and come to the motel on the other side of town and decide to finally stop.
On the other side of the road is some roadside attraction. You know, heartland of America, look at our ball of string? Like that. Except Dev thinks it looks more like rusted metal graveyard, and maybe some movie he's seen but never really thought about.
The ground is yellow, the sky is blue, the building is kind of black and kind of red. Like the prologue to a horror movie, everything so wholesome and four color it hurts, and then this one detail that doesn't fit.
Oz gets the keys, and Dev trails along after him into their room.
Behind them a guy steps out from behind another car and squints after them, then pulls out his glasses and puts them on. Big, thick, round frame glasses. The motel guy walks over and says "Are they the men, Agent?"
"Yeah. They're the guys. Straight out of Los Angeles. But don't worry, if they had anything to do with it, they won't get much further."
To which I say: Huh.
/Oz.
no subject
Date: 2005-01-30 04:39 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-01-30 06:39 am (UTC)er, my words seem to have wandered off somewhere. Pretend I was eloquent. ::)