Chat
05-14-2014, 06:51 PM
My colleagues from work and I were being held in a woodworking shop by a team of criminals who expected some sort of result before they would release us. I cannot recall the identities of any of the people from work, except that I was expected to take particular care of a woman in her 30's, called Ruth. One of them had prepared for me a piece of 1 x 3 board, which I was expected to break over the head of one of the criminals. The board had been grooved in such a way that it would break easily when I bashed the man on the head with it. My friends thought I wouldn't hit him hard enough, if I thought I might kill him.
The man I was supposed to hit was Japanese, with hair starting to get gray, so I presumed he was in his 40's. He was slightly-built, probably 5'6" tall, of stern demeanor and not talkative. Two of his henchmen were taller men, who appeared to be in their 30's, identified by my friends as "the Jamaicans" (though they looked hispanic and not Jamaican to me.) I was not expected to attack the Jamaicans; other men intended to fight them.
I realized fighting was about to start, but I was unable to find the Japanese man in the cluttered workshop, nor was I able to locate Ruth, to protect her. I don't recall if I expected outside help to arrive, and I was more concerned with my failure to attack, or to protect.
The predominant color in my surroundings was unfinished wood.
Music was playing in the room; after I woke up, I recognized the tune as "Old Joe Clarke" but later determined that the tune was actually "Clap Your Hands." (It had no significance in the proceedings, but it was a memorable detail.)
The man I was supposed to hit was Japanese, with hair starting to get gray, so I presumed he was in his 40's. He was slightly-built, probably 5'6" tall, of stern demeanor and not talkative. Two of his henchmen were taller men, who appeared to be in their 30's, identified by my friends as "the Jamaicans" (though they looked hispanic and not Jamaican to me.) I was not expected to attack the Jamaicans; other men intended to fight them.
I realized fighting was about to start, but I was unable to find the Japanese man in the cluttered workshop, nor was I able to locate Ruth, to protect her. I don't recall if I expected outside help to arrive, and I was more concerned with my failure to attack, or to protect.
The predominant color in my surroundings was unfinished wood.
Music was playing in the room; after I woke up, I recognized the tune as "Old Joe Clarke" but later determined that the tune was actually "Clap Your Hands." (It had no significance in the proceedings, but it was a memorable detail.)