Life and Death

Waddling down the aisle, tripping over feet and luggage straps, I make my way to my seat, 25B.  I stuff my backpack under the seat in front of me.  Packed to overflowing with books, it barely fits.  The guy next to me is large, hairy and sweaty.  He leans his head on the window and closes his eyes. 

Dream

Completely beaten down from a long day spent financing our hectic lifestyle, I plopped into bed.  I closed my eyes, fell instantly to sleep and began to dream.  I can't remember exactly how it started, but I was in my car; only it wasn't my car at all.  My car's cloth seats sport ice cream and soda stains.  The floorboards are littered with kids' socks, toys and shoes.  The driver's side door lock dangles uselessly, while the rear passenger hubcap is suspiciously missing.

Pretender

When I was a kid I loved to pretend. Mostly it was war games. We would hide out behind trees, rocks or in the barn waiting for our unsuspecting "enemies" to scuttle by. "Bam! Bam! I killed you!" There would always be a rebuttal,"No you didn't! I shot you first!"  Most of the time these battles ended peacefully.