The story so far:
Bader woke up with a leaf stuck to his sweaty beared face. "How long was I out for?" His aggressive narcolepsy had got him again. "Damn" He thought wishing he knew some better curse words. He quickly thought over and lamented the fact that he had been homeschooled by his mother--who was a nun. And he was her shameful little secret. That is why he fled to the woods. He wanted to live with the sprites and the woodselves that his mothers sister had told him about. Her name was Harla and she was a self proclaimed witch.
They sky was a dull orange mixed with a deep bloody red. Bader looked upon a sunset that appeared to have been copy and pasted off of a cheesey tourister shirt in the eighties. He felt his stomach rumble and jabbed his inch and a half long swiss army knife into the earth. "ARRGGHH"
He parted the thorny brush again fighting to stay awake, desperate for food. He watched the people coming in and out, back and forth like ants around an anthill. His eyes continued fluttering in and out of consciousness. His brain was saying sleep, man! Sleep my young Warlock! But he knew he couldn't. So he pressed on.
Through a series of rapid blinks he saw a young father with two little girls. Both of which were eating icecream cones. They appeared to be the drumstick ones that you buy in the box, not the good kind. But nevertheless Bader was hungry and he knew he had to make a move.
Deftly and silent like a panther, he slipped from the underbrush running through the parking lot at the shoppers.


'Third World Dreams (2)' statistics: (click to read)

