Sunday, January 25, 2009

I dream of a murder, a young Saudi prince stabbed outside a nightclub. The suspect is an Indian, a meek and pleasant new friend that joined me and my two other friends who, when questioned by the rough police, looks like he did it accidentally. He is released back to us, but an angry mob pursues us. I don't run and instead watch the other three run off, over a field to a distant wood with the streaming mob chasing. I explain to one mobster who can't be bothered to run that the Indian did it and that the other two were innocent friends. Later, in the car as three of us journey to hospital to visit a friend I see us, one by one, but to everyone's surprise the Indian is there, unharmed. When the hospital lift doors part I see the fourth member of our party who was beaten and paralysed from the waist down by the mob, the glasses wearing computer nerd.

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