The problem was, a fair number of people were turning into oarfish. Big, serpent-like sea monsters with a lion's mane of triangular skin flaps and a star shaped mouth that opened and closed like those doors one sees in spaceports, teeth retracting and converging from a central point. One bite from an oarfish and you'd become one yourself.
People were being rounded up and chased down over contacts they had with other infected people who had already turned. So, the world was becoming a loveless place, what with the epidemic of oarfish bites and suspected oarfish bites. I managed to avoid the bite but not the suspicion, so of course, I was on the run.
I remember seeing another sorry looking chap with a Green Bay Packers hoodie, who could have passed for my doppleganger, that was also on the run.
I really don't have much else, the dream evaporated rather quickly, and whatever other luggage I'd packed up got lost in the terminal on the way out.
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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.