night of 7/17/10

fighting my way over steep crags, through caves whose depths spiral back beneath themselves, winding roads atop cliffs. enormous waves crash over the land. usually the trek is not so dangerous but there is a storm; people can die when there are storms. sometimes i see others a ways ahead. there are so many doublings-back that someone well ahead on the path can appear close by. (this is all part of some intrigue of espionage. some opponent has failed this journey, or follows me, or is my target ahead.) i am not quite sure when i take a fork that it is the right way; there are many ways, and each poses its own dangers in different conditions. eventually i emerge into a bright lit open office area where others are gathered; i have made it; exultation.

scene of my mother and grandmother driving, trying to approach by a different path. here there are monsters that disguises themselves. they are pointing at the motel signs and discussing them. of all the motels clustered here, only two are real; the rest are monsters. even one of the real motels has its roadside signs dwarfed by a false one looming overhead. as they approach, the sign melts and slumps; the monster is unable to maintain the illusion perfectly. we, waiting safely in the office, watch this on a monitor.