.comment-link {margin-left:.6em;}

Fermius Firefly

A Dream Log, whenever I remember the dreams I've had.

My Photo
Location: San Marcos, United States

Fermius is a pen name drawn from a series of short fiction I wrote when I published the small press magazine Stellanova (on paper.) I play RPG games to escape from my daily grind as a technology wage slave for the state of California. I eat out a lot in order to do my part in supporting our increasingly service level economy. I am butler to 2 feline masters. If you ask them they will tell you I'm not very good at it, late with dinner, don't have enough hands with brushes in them, and sometimes I even lock them out of their office.

Tuesday, October 31, 2006

Zombi Audience

            I Dreamed another AV dream with two chambers in the back of a theater. One was for controlling the stage lighting system and the other was for running the sound system. At some point in the dream the audience became ravenous zombies. I directed the lighting technicians to turn up all the stage lights to protect the actors, the zombies didn't seem to like the bright lights. Then we retreated to the sound and lighting booths to fend the zombies off. I was spraying them with a fire extinguisher covering our retreat to the booths. There was some sort of secret exit from the lighting booth to the sound booth and then a set of controls to open and close an emergency exit to the outside. Unfortunately the controls were on the outside of the sound control booth.

            My plan was to move everyone into the lighting control booth so the zombies would focus on that control room. While they were distracted, I jumped out of the audio booth and triggered the door to the outside. Everyone rushed to the door, which pulled the zombies attention back to the sound booth. Someone closed the booth door behind me. I was trapped with zombies on either side. I could tell this was not going well. I realized that there was not going to be a happy ending unless I got back into the audio control room. I started to shiver, and just walked through the Plexiglas observation wall. The people in the control room were screaming and running around. I shouted at them to get out before the exit got closed.

            One of the techs asked if I could have left at any time. I said "I guess so, but I didn't want you to be trapped here."

            She ran out the door just as it started to close. A zombie had apparently bumped the door controls outside the booth. I shivered my way through the door. I woke up wondering if some Doom or Quake level designer had designed the theater.


Ad astra per technica,



Thursday, October 26, 2006

Plane Crash Survivor

            I dreamed I was on a plane, wide bodied, that had been pulled into a strange purple and white sky. I could tell the plane was no longer flying. There was a heavy set man with a pistol near the front of the plane. I kicked him in the groin and took the gun away.  Unfortunately he'd already fired several shots into the cabin before I got there. There were several passengers who'd been shot, and he'd fallen near a soft cat carrier with a white cat in it. Everyone grew quiet; the plane was only about half full. The attendants were trying to calm passengers, although most of the passengers were looking out the windows into the churning purple.

            Figures approached parallel to the direction of the plane. They were feminine dressed in white robes that gleamed orange from a sun that we could not see. A group of them broke away from their formation and angled over to the plane while the rest of them moved past. They swept into the plane, pulling souls as they went, each person they touched falling back into their seats as if sleeping. I stopped a young looking one and asked about the kitty. She bent down and scooped its soul, but it didn't fall over like the people. She shrugged and took the soul of a kid a couple of seats behind where I was.

            A more matronly looking angel admonished her team to hurry, she looked at her watch. I noticed that not everyone was taken, including me. I asked what was going on with that. “Someone else will be along for them,” She said with some distaste.

            "And Me?"

The Matron looked at me as though seeing me for the first time.

            "No, you don't go to either."

            The angels started looking nervous and eventually all of them exited out of the cabin, just as a large 600 pound checked shirt, dirty jeans wearing, unshaved man lurched onto the plane through the closed hatch. The injured hijacker screamed in terror. The cat ran from the demon.

"He has to be bad if a soulless cat would run away from him."

            "He is that. Take these," the matronly angel handed me some chocolate covered donut holes sealed in a plastic bag, the shiny riffle edged sort of bag that circus peanuts come in.

            "Thanks, what..."

            "Keep them safe, you'll know when to use them."

            "Thanks, sure." I scooped up the kitten, too, somehow, in the process giving it a bit of my soul. The demon no longer had any interest in the cat.

            "You are really odd." The matronly woman looked at me sideways and ran through the closed cabin doors.

            The demon looked at me, "Git, I'm not here for you." I could smell the mold as he shouldered his way past. I could hear shouts of terror from the back. I wanted to save those people, but suddenly I was waking up in wreckage, holding the mewling kitten. I climbed out of the debris field, somehow managing to avoid the reporters. The ambulance attendants let me keep the kitten.

After the doctors looked at me I checked myself out and a nurse brought me the cat. She drove me home to where all my stuff was being sold at a garage sale. It seems no one had bothered to tell any one that there'd been a survivor.

            "That was fast." I had set the donut holes down to hug mom and N; some one had opened them so I interrupted my hug to take the package back. I ended up sucking on one of the too sweet confections, not really knowing why I needed to, just that I did.

When I did, several things changed, and some of the more dangerous looking kids suddenly felt the need to be elsewhere and ran off. The bikes they were on tipped over, and, a moment later, kids showed up to claim them.

            "OK, that's some sort of special power. We'd better be careful, eh Kitten."


            A person stopped in a Lincoln Town Car and bought all the comics for a few thousand dollars! Another stopped and bought all the show T-shirts and sweat shirts for a thousand more. I told N and Mom to keep the money, "I'm not going to need it." I then walked off with the kitty to go find out what I was supposed to do with the rest of the donut holes. No one seemed to notice.


Ad astra per technica,



Wednesday, October 25, 2006

Performing Last Minute Without a Full Script

            I dreamed last night of being in a play. Lots of problems, I'd been brought in only half hour before the show, and the script was nearly gibberish. We ran through the first act, it wasn't too bad, and I was behind a counter the whole act, so I was able to keep the script in front of me. The curtain went up, and instead of the lone prospector driving his mining cart through my gift-shop / museum, the cart was full of the customers, who were not supposed to show up to act II, they being the build of the problem. Even they seemed to notice their error and the performance ground to a halt while anyone tried to find a way to adlib our way out of it.

            I finally dropped over the front of the counter with a set of jerks and twists. "Oh, No more, what a nightmare!, Oh! I hope I wake up soon." It took a couple of minutes but they finally got it and left. The prospector came back on with the cart, I woke up and we started the play at the beginning. The stage manager caught my attention and asked if we should start over. "No way, but find me act II script!"  I had taken a moment during some of the action that didn't include me to read ahead, only there was no ahead in my copy of the script.


Ad astra per technica,

Douglas Nicoll

LAN Administrator

ITS Helpdesk 8801 2260


Friday, October 20, 2006

Tunnel with Organ Donor Detour.

I was driving my car into a tunnel. The road was switching over to the other side, and I was the last car in, so a crew was already removing sections of the road for maintenance. I had to work at getting Little Red's wheels on the parts of the road that were still in place, managing to navigate mostly to the bottom of the ramp without trouble. Unfortunately, because of how slowly I made it down the ramp, there was no road left when I got to the actual entry of the tunnel. I had to bump and scrape over the steel girders of the road's under structure.

            I had to get out of the car and allow them to roll her up into a carwash type conveyor. I then joined a group to walk through the tunnel. There was a bunch of stairs down and then back up. We found ourselves in a sort of canyon like setting, complete with gravel and bushes along the side of the path. We made our way up the hill, the lights were hidden behind cloud shaped shades, and the ceiling was painted blue like the sky. We came to a two and a half foot wide tunnel in the hillside. Our guide indicated that this was a shortcut to the next section; the tunnel floor was a slide smooth surface. It went down about 80 feet that I could see then curved more level, blocking any further view. Everyone was sliding down into the tunnel. I asked the guide what someone like M, a friend of mine who was close to 400 pounds would do. He indicated that the trail went around the bend and up over the rest of the hillside.

            I wasn't too sure I wanted to slide down the tunnel, so took a little walk up the hill to find that the path was overgrown and disused. No one had come this way in a very long time. I didn't think that made sense. The guide, who'd acted like he was going into the tunnel didn't, instead turning around and heading back down the path. I didn't like the feel of the whole situation. The guide was speaking into his radio, but was too far away for me to make out what he was saying. I crept back to the trail and climbed up over the canyon side, spotting the conveyer belt of cars; most of them had their passengers in them. I got a very bad feeling about things, and raced down to catch up with Little Red. She had some sort of sticker on the front that the other cars didn't have, so I took it off and hid it under the passenger seat. The conveyor belt pulled us through a flooded section of the tunnel, water dripping from the ceiling. I was very concerned about the fate of the people who'd been convinced to slide down the tunnel, they would be far below the current water level.

            I had no way of getting back to them short of abandoning Little Red and climbing back over walls to the trail. I knew I was going to have come back on foot after getting my car out of the tunnel safely. I noticed the other empty cars being pulled off the line ahead of me. A crew approached my vehicle as though they were going to take mine off as well, but were confused when they didn't see the window sticker. I decided to bluff my way through, cracking the window a bit. "That was it." I said.

            "Yes, sir, have a good night" they responded with a little half salute. They wandered back onto a catwalk and I could see them headed down stairs.


            Right before waking the dream shifted to the foyer of an office type area. There was water coming from the fire sprinklers, though they weren't spraying full force. I was walking past a couple of people in scrubs. They were talking about the potential donors. I really didn't like where this was going.


Ad astra per technica,



Thursday, October 19, 2006

Dancing With Gamer Girl, Grown up Now.

            I was at a dance of some sort, chaperoning what appeared to be High School aged students. One of my former gamers, now grown, was rolling around outside in a pink satin dress with petticoats that she pulled aside to reveal very sexy lace topped stockings and slender black garters. The black lace on her paper-white skin was quite stunning.

            She'd let her hair grow out, it was far longer than I've ever seen it, and straight and full and shiny and strawberry blonde. Despite being so visually attractive, when I held her close she still smelled wrong, not bad, just wrong. She was not as enticing as she was trying to be and I knew I couldn't explain it to her without insulting her, so I didn't try. I hugged her back and we kissed. I was hoping I would find that more inspiring, or that she would get the "kissing my brother" feeling. I didn't. She didn't, and in fact was even more cuddlesome afterwards.

            I was sad. I was greatly attracted to her, but the chemistry was off. Her scent was so off as to make kissing her somewhat difficult. Dancing was a much better solution, we were close, but the movement and distance was better. We were also surrounded by other people whose smells piled on to make a more chemically neutral environment. I found her more attractive in that venue than when we were alone together.

            I woke up hoping that the chemical issue was just some lotion or perfume, but I doubted it.


Ad astra per technica,


Wednesday, October 18, 2006

Saving a Romance, Supervising Ghosts

            I was drifting incorporeal through a college student union room. There was a professor sitting across a round table from his senior editor for the school newspaper. (I don't know exactly how I knew that, but I did.) After they finished discussing business, which included the editor's resignation, as she was taking an early degree to go to work for a local paper, they stood and hugged.

            The hug went on for some time. They both looked at each other, and simultaneously they leaned in to kiss one another. I stopped being incorporeal by taking possession of a student who was about to protest. I steered my stolen body away. It was somehow important that these two be allowed to have this moment. I knew that they would get together and their child would somehow be critical to the future. I went to the food line and purchased a couple of desserts, walking outside, I let my host go, mouth full and only slightly confused by what had happened. I figured the romance would be well sealed by the time the person finished chewing and got back into the student union.

            Next, I found myself at a wine cellar and grocery store where ghosts were stocking the shelves. I told them "Thank you,” just in case no one had thanked them before. Since they were doing work I'd been asked to oversee. The owners hadn't bothered to tell me I'd be overseeing ghosts. I noticed that one of our product lines was exclusively on the top shelf, so asked how the shorter customers were going to be able to get to them. The ghosts milled around a bit and then rearranged the product and the one next to it to be across three shelves each. They seemed pleased when I thanked them for solving the problem. Not that I could see them.

            The owners then came a got me out of a meeting and everyone was pointing at me saying it was my fault. They led me back into the winery kitchen where there were ghosts cleaning pots and pans and reorganizing the equipment. I could see this bunch; they were all in the white kitchen uniform or in tuxedo type jackets. The cooks and bus boys were cowering in a corner. The owners wanted me to talk to the ghosts and get them to "calm down." 

            I went over and talked to the cooks and bus boys instead, telling them to go ahead and go back to work, just say out loud what you need, and to say "thank you" and "please" when asking for things. I also suggested that they phrase their requests as problems needing solutions, as that seemed to be the ghostly motivation for this haunting, to be problem solving and useful.

            I then went into the maelstrom of swirling kitchen tools and presented the ghostly host with the immediate problem that needed to be solved; my kitchen staff was frightened of the zooming activity level, especially where it featured sharp knives and the like. All of the sharp items immediately were placed on counters, and the other items were suddenly being carried well overhead.

            The kitchen staff slowly made their way back to their posts, led by the bus boys, who could spend much of their time out of the kitchen anyway, and then the cooks, ducking under the stream of clean dishes from the washer. The Cooks soon found that they only had to ask for what they wanted and someone was handing it to them. In about a half an hour, everything was humming nicely. One of the cooks told me he was OK with this, as long as he didn't have to actually see them. I asked who could see the ghosts, and only one dish washer indicated that she could see them. I asked if she minded. She said she didn't but "I better not see any of them in the restroom with me!"

            I saw the ghosts nodding, so knew that wouldn't be a problem. By the time I left, some of the ghosts had figured out that they didn't have to walk on the floors, and were hovering well up overhead passing pans from the stove up over the light fixtures and then down into the sinks. I made a note to buy a drip pan to prevent spills into the lighting fixtures. Apparently the ghosts couldn't do any actual washing, something to do with running water, but they were keeping the dirty and clean dishes moving between the cooking and cleaning areas.

            I felt that the partnership was going to help make the winery kitchen an even greater success. The owners were a little taken aback, but I pointed out that ghosts had been keeping their store shelves straightened out for years without any negative incidents. It wasn't really hurting them, because the free labor they got was well worth the extra pay they had to offer their workers to stay on.

            As the dream was fading away, I realized that I was actually one of the ghosts, not one of the live workers, but strong enough to be seen by even ordinary folks. That was weird, and caused me to wake with a start.


Ad astra per technica,



Thursday, October 12, 2006

Farm Office, Convention Game

            I dreamed I owned a small storefront office with just a reception desk, a conference room (about 4 chairs around a small table with a whiteboard, and a private office. The lobby area was floor to ceiling bookcases with a hidden passage to a flight of stairs. The upstairs area was a huge warehouse with grow lights all along the ceiling and skylights. There were more than a hundred walnut and macadamia trees. There was a watering system and a conveyor belt system between the rows of trees. The conveyor belts fed into a small packaging area at one end of the warehouse. There was a freight elevator that opened up on a loading dock at the end of the building down below. In addition to the trees, it seems we were also growing green beans and tomatoes as well as parsley and clover. I had ventilation from the green belt down into my offices below.

            I also dreamed I was running a convention game of Spare Parts with several pog sized tokens to represent the characters, items and SFX. I was also using cards from dozens of CCGs, most of them old ratty cards the convention players had been donating over the years. I was using scans of CCG cards under photos of origami models to represent the bad guys on the encounter maps. The maps easily morphed because I was using a flat panel, like a 24 inch, on the desktop facing upwards and a laptop as my Junk Master's screen. I think dream started with the table actually built around a 24 inch flat front CRT monitor that was mounted flush, but the dream changed it into the flat panel as it progressed. While the game was running, I invited spectators to run a card through my scanner, and I would add it to the game. That got a lot of action going. As characters entered left the story I would invite spectators to join the team.


Ad astra per technica,



Wednesday, October 11, 2006

Building Lobby

            I had multiple detailed dreams which were quite complex and jumped around a lot. At this point I remember waking up thinking "I've got to remember this," giving a short description, that I have now completely forgotten. All I remember is being in the lobby of a large glass fronted office building looking out across a courtyard of dark slabs of slate or other grey stone fit together in large curved pattern. There was some water fountain of dark granite, probably a sphere in the center about 12 feet tall or more. There were two women in grey suits, one in pants the other in a skirt, but with nearly identical jackets and pinstripes, walking away from me out of the building. A person in a red blazer was crossing in front of the fountain and another in a white or beige overcoat was standing on the other side of the fountain but not really looking in this direction. I remember thinking how empty the courtyard looked for this time of day. I could hear the low level lobby music, the radio of the guard in the kiosk behind me, and the ever present low rumble of the city outside.

            All other images and plots are gone, just that moment, very real and intense, remains stuck in my head.



Ad astra per technica,



Tuesday, October 10, 2006

Jealous Kittens

            I dreamed of two young women sitting with me at some Comic Con event. The Red Head was wearing a short skirt and sitting so close our thighs were touching. The Blonde was dressed more like me, button down Hawaiian print shirt and cargo pants. We were all talking when the RH suddenly stood up and complained that I was caressing her thigh.

            I wasn't, I pointed out that I was sketching so couldn't have, but there was stuff in my cargo pocket that was rubbing against her. At that point she sat down, seemingly disappointed. B just looked at us and I had to tell her that she was welcome to stay. RH looked upset again. I could tell she wanted to be where the RH was. I was enjoying the attention.

            Upon waking I had Ginger on my thigh (a red tabby) and Chloe sitting at me feet. (A calico marked much like a Hawaiian print shirt.) Sometimes there are such normal explanations for dreams.


Ad astra per technica,



Saturday, October 07, 2006

Martian Colony Double Date

      I dreamed last night of a dream journal sketchbook that had a playable game on one of the pages. I was showing it to a couple of women, one petite and slender and one a bit taller and heavier. The game was a sort of multi level side scroller with all of the levels laid out on the page (as it was technically an illustration.) The characters in the game were like the old led cutout animations of old style handheld games. If you tilted the page just right, you could see all of the potential positions.
      After allowing the gals to play through a couple of samples the petite one suggested that we all go out to dinner and went out with my friend, M, to bring back a change of clothing.
      "Do you think we'll see them again," the heavy gal asked.
      "Yes, I have the car keys." I showed her the ignition key for my jump buggy. They arrived back at my dome in relatively short order. The heavy woman and I getting a chance to test out another couple of games I was working on. She seemed genuinely interested, unlike her petite friend, who'd just been paying attention to be polite, and to be near M.
      We heard the airlock cycle and went to see them in. The petite one was in a red scoop-necked skirt that flounced nicely out of the environment suit. She had her hair up in a pony tail with some jeweled combs and long dangling earrings, she'd also put on some makeup.
      "How much to you want to bet she brought me a shapeless knit tube and no makeup or jewelry?"
      "No bet," I thought the tall gal's freckles were makeup enough. "You don't need the makeup, I like your face the way it is."
      Sure enough, the dress the petite one brought was a knit tube. At least it had a dropped neckline and a couple of small cuts at the sides of the legs, so it wasn't completely styleless.
      "Slip it on over the turtleneck and leggings," I took off my belt and wrapped it around her to pull the dress in under her breasts. "That helps it out. You've got a nice shape under there."
      She blushed. "But you'd still rather be seen with her."
      "Not at all, I think we're going to make an elegant couple." I changed into a nice slacks and coat over a turtleneck that matched hers. I pulled her over in front of the window that looked out over the cratered expanse outside and rotated the polarization until it was slate, a good mirror and the only one in the house. "See, we look good together."
      She pulled at her dress and tried to push her hips in. I was looking at her reflection next to mine and thinking that while I did find the petite one good looking, she had snuck over to check herself out in the mirror, then shot a slightly jealous look over at her friend. I thought the heavier taller woman was actually more attractive for being rounder. Even though I knew she found M much more attractive physically, she kept looking over at him in the mirror, as did her friend, I hoped I would make a decent consolation prize. When I took her arm in mine and posed with her she actually smiled, and it was genuine.
      "Anyone for dining on Phobos?" I asked.
      "Oh! Yes, can we?"
      "You bet. My treat." The apartment called and reserved us a table two hours from then, and we all made our way into the jump buggy.
      "This is yours?" the petite one asked M.
      "No, its his." M pointed to me.
      The petite brunette was suddenly more attentive to me. I was looking forward to the two hour flight, half of which would be in micro gravity. The inside of the jump buggy was all maroon leather and cherry wood with brass details.

Rabbit Guides: Ned and Ted


      I was on the African Plains, or so I judged by the charging rhinoceros. I managed to dodge out of the way.
      "Why don't you shoot it!" some one shouted from the jeep as it drove off without us.
      "They're endangered enough!" I shouted back at them as the driver attempted to outmaneuver the charging rhino.
      As the rhino chased the jeep off out of the dream I turned to my companions and suggested that we head for the stand of trees in the distance, as there would be water, and likely, therefore, a home or two with a radio. We could get someone to come and get us out back to our hotel.
      We started across the grasslands, coming across a couple of rabbits who introduced themselves as Ned and Ted. My companions and I didn't think anything of talking rabbits so accepted their guidance and followed them to the oasis.
      On the way to the oasis, hyaenas attacked the rabbits ahead of us. I leveled my rifle, knowing that I wouldn't be able to shoot them directly, I fired at the ground behind them. The bullet shattered a rock and one of the shards struck Ned in the chest. She fell over. They hyaenas took off, that part, at least, going as I'd intended.
      Ned had a small pinky nail sized square ended chunk of rock sticking out of her chest. She was still breathing and her heart was beating very fast (even for a rabbit.) I got her to calm down and decided not to try to remove the rock, as I didn't want her to bleed to death. We took off running, me cradling the injured rabbit, trying to run smoothly as possible. I knew there was a Vet in residence at the hotel and vowed to pay for the helicopter ride to get us there in time.
      "Should I call them on the cell phone?"
      "You've got a cell phone?" I nearly shouted at them.
      "Yes. What? I didn't want to use up my minutes!"
      "Just get the helicopter out here, now!"
      I stopped running and did my best to keep the bunny comfortable and still. Ted hopped nervously back and forth, saying "The hyaenas would have eaten us both, you did the right thing, it would have eaten us both."
      I couldn't detect any exterior bleeding hardly at all, so hoped the internal bleeding was also minimal. I could tell by looking that the rock was mostly stopped by the rib cage, so I hoped it was not a long sliver and the wound would turn out to be just a flesh wound.
      "It itches," Ned complained. I kept her from kicking at it.
      "Leave it, I don't want you to start bleeding everywhere. We'll get you to a doctor and it'll be out soon."
      "Listen to him, Ned, he's right, it's his rules, it's going to be all right."
      "It itches, Ted, I just want to scratch it a little."
      "Resist the urge, tell me a story, Ned, tell me a story."
      Ned started to whisper in a language I couldn't really follow, and seemed to be so caught up in her tale that she forget she was itchy. While she and Ted were conversing, I spotted the helicopter. My companions started jumping up and down, flapping their arms maniacally. I realized how silly they looked in their short pants and cargo vests with their safari hats. I was in long pants, and a heavy linen shirt. I did have the cargo vest as I was carrying cameras and batteries and a box of ammunition for my .308. But the shirt was a bamboo print and the pants were brown not white. I did have a safari hat, but one of the sort made of straw rather than heavy canvas and plastic. Ned was cooling a bit so I held her closer, trying to stave off the effects of shock. Ted climbed up into my lap to snuggle next to her. I appreciated his confidence, and hoped it was warranted.

Thursday, October 05, 2006

Convention Cat

            Last night's adventure took place at another convention, this time T-Rex and I were staying in a hotel. T was having a tough time with the maids, they were frightening him, and he didn't want to stay in the room, so I dumped my backpack and he hopped in to ride along as I made my way through the convention. There was a long segment of the dream where I was navigating my way through the convention hotel, getting in an argument with the Concierge, until I pointed out that “Since this hotel allows pets in the rooms, how are they supposed to get in and out?”

T-Rex just cowered in the bottom of the bag until we got to the convention itself. Then he was all nose and ears trying to check out what was going on. Apparently he likes Science Fiction fans. He caused a little bit of a ruckus when he jumped out of the bag and sat on the table at one of the panels. He was purring so loud the mic was picking him up.

            I ended up telling the crowd how he just hated the vacuum cleaners at the hotel, and loved the attention. He would only be appearing until the room was vacuumed, then we’d be going back.  He stretched and flopped down in front of the name tag, then used it as a pillow.

            There was a low "Awwww," from nearly every female in the room. I knew I was getting laid that night.

            "I should bring you along more often."

            The panel continued without further interruption. We were talking about building game worlds and my points were mostly about how culture is really about how people behave. A game world, while needing visual and SFX wonders, mostly needs characters that behave in consistent ways with/towards/about those wonders and SFX. All during the panel T-Rex snoozed on the nametag and when we were done he climbed up and hugged me like usual.  More “Awww”s from the audience. I decided to bring him back to the convention after a litter box break.

            Several people followed us, one asking if I needed a kitty sitter. I think the cat was more popular that I was.


            It is nice to be taking a break from the nightmares.


Ad astra per technica,



Tuesday, October 03, 2006

Rally Car Surfing, An Unexpected Kiss

            N was driving in a road rally, when we decided to swap her car. She got into her old Miata. It was stripped down for racing. She turned to go down a really steep hill with deep gullies running through it. There was lots of slipping and sliding down the slope. I was going to follow in Little Red, but knew that my ground clearance was even less than the Miata's. I decided to go around the long way. (I was not apparently being timed for the race.) I shouted down to meet at the check point.

            At that time water began to well up from the gullies and I decided that I could hydroplane down the slope in Little Red. I did so, but riding on top like the car was a surfboard. Somehow, that not only worked, but I got to the checkpoint before N. The Miata needed to have the water sponged out of it. All of the carpet was soaked so we removed it. I replaced the passenger seat with a computer console and a voice activated GPS system with night vision front and rear facing cameras. We took the top completely off of the vehicle and stored it in the back of Little Red. I also was carrying extra fuel. I started out on the course two hours before N so I would be in a good position to fuel her up. (This was a desert flat out run for nearly 300 miles; she would be out of gas by the time she got across the desert, so I was going to be her portable pit stop.)


            That was followed by a dream where I was being kissed by a friend of ours, just because N had been telling her about it, how the fur makes it different, and she was curious. OK by me....


Ad astra per technica,