My brother Chris had gone on a rampage on a college campus and had shot some people with a big black-barreled, black-handled .38 caliber handgun. I found Chris on the college campus, took the gun from him and picked him up with my right arm. Holding him under my right arm, and the gun in my left hand, I wanted to carry Chris away from here before he could be arrested. 

Obviously Chris was angry about something. I surmised that he was angry about having muscular dystrophy, but I wasn't sure. Suddenly I shouted out to him that God was responsible for his muscular dystrophy. I hoped my words would shake him up. I basically told him if he wanted to be angry with someone, he should be angry with God because God had caused his muscular dystrophy. At the same time, however, I also called him a "blasphemer" for rebelling against God. Chris didn't lend much attention to my assertions. 

I was having difficulty escaping with Chris. Unfortunately the campus was crowed, and as I pressed through the throng, some people noticed I was carrying the gun, and a short pandemonium erupted as people tried to scatter away from me. As I tried to slip through the crowd, I thought of sticking the gun into my pants to conceal it. Somehow, I managed to pass through the crowd and freedom seemed near, even though I was still uncertain what I would do with Chris after we escaped. 

Dream Epics Home Page

Copyright 2005 by luciddreamer2k@gmail.com