On our way down the mountain from Batangas, we stopped in a small, quaint town filled with old-fashioned simple folk. For some reason, I took the opportunity to vanish into the shadows and watch as the buses left me behind. I roamed around the small town, hoping to find some sort of means with which I could escape my mundane life and start over in a some other paradise.
Twice people from the company came back, looking for someone, but apparently not me. I successfully dodged their attentions the first time by hiding inside a dinky comfort room that looked like nobody bothered to maintain it, although it was a close call since one of them also followed me in and I was forced to hide in one of the cubicles. The second time I had to walk right past two women from our company, which I accomplished by pretending to be devouring a newspaper article that conveniently covered my place.
With that done, my escape was nearly complete. I slunk around the shadows as dusk started to arrive, and somehow walked into a nice middle-aged lady’s house; I asked her where the nearest seven-eleven or ministop was, but she shrugged and apparently there were none in town. Instead I was able to find a small neighborhood drugstore, and began looking around for something to eat, hoping nobody would notice me…
… and then I woke up. I get the weirdest dreams when I stay up overnight on Saturday and sleep through Sunday afternoon. This one was particularly vivid, though I wish I could have remembered more of the details (and I was fudging some stuff here and there); when I woke up I had the distinct impression that there were much more adventurous undertones in the dream than I recalled. I considered using my awesome dream-recall powers to go back to sleep and continue the dream, but then I realized I was late for Church…
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