Block 917: January 27, 2016


Doing this a little early today; another round of tech rehearsals starts in an hour and a half.

Date: January 27, 2016

Crane: 917

Days Spent on Project: 1071

Location: NW Portland, OR

Person I would have sent it to: TBD

Music I listened to while sewing: Nothing right now. It’s one of those rare moments in the shop when there’s no kind of music playing anywhere.

Thoughts/Feelings behind the block: Weird dreams last night.

I was driving a car, down a very straight country road, which was flanked on either side by fields of young wheat or soybeans or grass, that stretched far into the distance. Some might say the road appeared to go on for infinity.

Driving the car, I saw in the approaching distance a one lane bridge, the kind that necessitated one direction of traffic to stop if the other direction reached the bridge first.

I sped up.

There was some other dark car approaching me in the distance beyond the bridge, but I was in no danger of NOT being the first to cross the bridge; I just wanted to get over it first. I had somewhere to go. I didn’t know where but I needed to be someplace other than where I had been.

I accelerated, closing the distance to the bridge, steering myself straight ahead, but I missed.


The car swerved- I didn’t move my hands from their positions at 10 and 2- and the car flew off the road through a ditch and spun out in the green field that was previously on my left.

The cars behind me kept going. They drove past me. They went over the bridge. Traffic didn’t stop as I sat in the car, uninjured, but seething and desperate and confused that I didn’t make it across. How did I not make it across? How did I not keep going?

Why didn’t I make it across first? Why didn’t I make it across at all? I tried and I didn’t make it. I believed I could drive. I believed I could make it.

Did I even know how to drive? Did I even know how to operate this car? Who’s car was this?

I sat in the driver’s seat and looked to my right. Three cars were speeding towards the one lane bridge. They crossed it very easily, as if there shouldn’t be any effort to keep going.

I looked farther beyond and saw a small gap between those three cars and a fourth car that was appeared to be moving slowly behind them in the distance. I checked; there was no traffic coming from the left. I gunned it, swerved the car and flew back onto the road and made it onto the one lane bridge.

I crossed it.

But, as I made it to the other side, I was rear-ended. The fourth car in the distance had obviously been going faster than I predicted and smashed into me.

I drove maybe a half a mile before I felt guilty for not stopping. I pulled off the road, feeling a heavily weighted sense of dread in my stomach, debating with myself about who was at fault: me for jumping back into traffic so carelessly or them for speeding into me?

I got out of the car and looked back. The other car wasn’t there. I don’t think it was ever there. I’m not sure what hit me, but again I found myself stopped on the side of the road, with traffic still passing me by.

Then I woke up.

What do you think *that* means, huh?

One thought on “Block 917: January 27, 2016

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