I was standing in front of a hotel, and there was a large bombing plane at a distance, firing various missiles. I dodged them, and slowly got better at doing so.
The missiles looked formidable, but most of them either had very mild explosives- I caught one on my leg. The others exploded and let loose clouds of freezing material. The plane circled to the other side and I followed it, dodging once more. This continued a number of times.
I then went inside the hotel, and bought a room. The person there, chinese, who was the owner, gave me a blue paper ticket. I mentioned the bomber outside, who had yelled some curses at the hotel as well, and the owner cursed the bomber, saying that previously he had vacuumed out the hotel very well.
I went outside, dodging missiles, and was about to go upstairs to fine my room, as there was a stairway on the outside. I was scared of the missiles though, and so I went back inside and asked the owner for the location of my room. He grinned and said that I was in a room with history.
Someone then came running inside and grabbed the phone, making a phone call. The owner ran for the phone, hanging it up just as someone on the other side answered.
Everyone now grew grave, and somehow my left hand had been damaged. It had a number of pieces of lettuce and such on it. I shoved the first piece down the sink and put the others in the waste basket. After that my damaged hand looked fine.
The hotel owner said that I had to leave, and that I might be pursued. I accepted this and asked for something to drink. Someone handed me a mug with some tea in it, which I drank. I then began to leave, heading for my car.
The owner's son, Ian, came outside to introduce himself. He made some jokes, which I thought were extremely funny, and I got in my car after putting the mug I had in a nearby tree.
Posted by Trevor Savage at August 31, 2003 1:39 PM