Nina Lyn's Dream

I don't like being in this truck. There is no house and the man driving is dangerous, an old dirt bag with no teeth who drives this truck onto an edge overlooking a lawn with no house.

I look at the panoramic view below and the brown jagged dirt of the cliff.

The three green bushes are arranged just right, not tall enough to screen the dining activities of the hospital people below in the yard of red picnic tables with their little matching yellow checkered table cloths fluttering in the wind but never flying away.

I can't go because I lost my purse and my badge was in it. The policy about badges only applies to me, so I can't go.

I'm afraid. Bone chilling fear. But I am determined. I think I can walk down that cliff.

I start walking/climbing down that cliff which blends into a weedy, gravelly yard. I can't see anybody but I hear voices having fun.