[ WP ] Write about your most recent dream .

Work. Sigh. My coworkers flowed around me, busy with their own stories, ledes, and lunging for the ringing phones. A normal Monday. 
 
 I sat at my desk, opening my laptop for another day of fires, accidents and chasing whatever story the editor thought I was best suited for. Like clockwork, the scanner screeched and my boss rushed out of his office. 
 
 There was a duel accident and structure fire. Possibly related. 
 
 My boss paced back and forth, talking but I did n't listen. I focused on what I needed. Where the hell had I put the long lens camera? Or the ipad?... My phone? My normally chaotic desk was bare. 
 
 Fed up, my boss yanked off his head and handed it to me. 
 
 `` Just take me with you,'' he said. 
 
 I gingerly fastened him into a backpack, positioning him between my shoulder blades, like a freak second head. A slight blur later, I was at the scene. 
 
 It was worse than I thought it was going to be. It was a war scene. Random fires burned along the road and in the rumble of an apartment building. The bridge was bombed out, a sole strut strung across the shallow, freezing river. 
 
 From behind my rain jacket, my boss yelled to get closer to the action. 
 
 I shoved down my anxiety with a deep breath and stepped onto the strut. It was slick with ice and blood. I steadied myself by crouching and holding on as I scooted across. The metal was cold and my hands started to go numb. 
 
 A woman screamed and army men in a jeep chased her into the river. The vehicle rocketed into the strut. 
 
 I started to lose my grip. I flung myself backward, aiming for land, forgetting that my backpack was a living breathing head. I had made land. My boss died. 
 
 The army men ran toward me. 
 
 Blur 
 
 There was a line of us, cowed and naked. Heads down, chains were n't necessary to make us walk forward, stepping into the footprint of the person in front of us. I felt blank. I did n't have a name. I did n't have friends. I had no life besides walking in this line with these other faceless, nameless, human-flesh-toned blurs. 
 
 But then I saw him. It became distinctly obvious that he was male. I was female. I was in a line of females. 
 
 He was dark-haired, also naked, and bent. But his eyes were alive. And I loved him. He was familiar to me in a way even myself was n't. 
 
 He grinned and I ran toward him. Nuns, in Nazi-esque outfits, medals across their dark brown-clothed chests and glittering in their small hats, chased us. 
 
 They were strong and angry. I could n't understand them when they yelled. Guy also had issues fighting them. 
 
 He grabbed my hand and we sprinted into a narrow room with three doors in front of us. I was slightly ahead, as he had slowed to consider the options, and picked the middle door, hoping it lead outside. 
 
 It was a circular closet. Normal clothing arranged by age, from baby to adult, circled the room. We pressed against the wall next to the door, holding hands. He smiled again, but did n't speak. It was n't a happy smile, but it was n't quite sad. 
 
 A nun crashed in. I shoved her into the adult clothing, attempting to tangle her and buy us time. As I sprinted out, a nun across the room, in an alcove I had n't noticed, opened a door, revealing a glimpse of Paris. 
 
 I dodged through the other nuns, thinking Guy was behind me. Outside was tones of gray. I paused at the corner of the street, looking for Guy. Instead a nun slipped out the door. We grappled and I could n't hit her hard enough to make her stop. I suddenly had a lead pipe in my hands. I hit her over and over. She would n't submit. The first inkling of despair settled in. 
 
 Guy was n't coming out. I gave up fighting the nun and ran to the building. The windows were disguised to look like wall inside, but outside there were clearly large windows. I slammed the pipe into windows, hoping to give Guy an escape. 
 
 An alarm sounded through out the city, but it was melodious. 
 
 `` TRAIN WRECK THAT I AM.'' 
 
 Anxiety set it. I had n't gotten Guy out. 
 
 `` THAT I AM'' 
 
 Falling to my knees in the streets. I had n't gotten Guy out. 
 
 `` WHAT I AM A TRAIN WRECK'' 
 
 Breathe in, breathe out. 
 
 It's 9 a.m. And I need to call my SO. 
 

