His darker dreams disturbed him, even
as they were happening.
His body had been taken over by snakes,
and he was cutting of their rapid growth in some kind of kitchen
appliance. Even though the tool was perfect for the job, it seemed
to be a net zero use of time. They simply grew quicker to match the
ones that were cut off. His left hand was thoroughly infected, and
the snakes seemed intent on getting his right hand as well.
In his other dreams OCD became a
problem.
He was at a roadside Subway, or a
mockery of one. The building was barely thick enough to hold the
three staff members and seemed to hold only a fraction of what it
should for supplies. He rifled through his pockets to find useless
gift cards, playing cards and the ever-present micro-coins. Like
real currency, but a fifth of it's size. It seems his dreams were
always plagued with poor counterfeiters who couldn't even match the
scale of real coins.
Even when all was well, it was
disorganized
He was in a restaurant, looking on as
the staff rotated. The servers were doing a stage production as they
cleared the tables in expectation of tips that never came. The
kitchen staff were ending their shift and were closing down the
kitchen in what seemed to be the middle of the busy time.
Then there was the supervision
At nearly all times he was being
shadowed by people. People who were looking out for his best
interest, but who seemed to be barely aware of what was happening.
It was infuriating. They robbed him of his time, dulled his senses
and distracted him from things of importance. They were there so
often it was a miracle when they weren't – but even then it seemed
he was under their shadow. In only rare cases was he able to act and
perceive entirely on his own.
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