I don't know what I was doing at this fleabag hotel, but it seems I was there in somewhat of a research reporter capacity. I was tooling around in a wheelchair, and I openly admitted that I was faking being disabled just so I could use the convenience of its mode of travel.
The subject of my research was a troubled young girl who was being oppressed by demons. The oppression manifested as her appearing to be a psychic. She was a kind of meek blonde girl, reminiscent of the actress in Repulsion.
I somehow convinced the girl that she might need some spiritual attention, which I would attempt to procure for her at the local adult book and video store. I went in to talk to the proprietor, and he knew of the girl and agreed to let me conduct an "interview" in his store. We skirted around the word "exorcism," but this was where it was headed, and we both knew it.
I had an accomplice, a portly business-suited salesman type with a somewhat sleazy demeanor. Like he'd sell you religion or porn depending on your needs. We arranged to have the girl meet up with us in a hotel room adjacent to the porn store.
While we were in the store waiting, Javier Martinez showed up and was a little perturbed at our arrangement. It didn't appear above board, and he told us so. Well, he told me. The salesman dude hid under the bed when he showed up.
I was a little embarrassed at the appearance of things, but we really weren't doing anything untoward. We intended to help this girl to manage with her demonic gift of psychic ability. And maybe do a little exorcism should the need arise.
Javier left, and the salesman popped back out from under the bed, full of excuses for abandoning me to face the consternation alone. At this point, I was trying to make sense of my dream and kind of planning on how I would proceed, so I could both record it and also continue in it a while longer. I couldn't do both, it seems.
It was then that I got a text message from Jeannette Reina through my Words With Friends app on my phone.
"Any dream action?" it read.
That sealed it. I woke up, and here I am.
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I've changed my comments settings to allow for anyone to comment. All comments are welcome, even spineless potshots from anonymous posters. Please, by all means, give me the tongue lashing I so richly deserve. I promise not to hunt you down and melt your keyboard with my plasma cannon. I won't, however, promise not to pout and make that face you can't stand.