I had a peculiar dream last night. I was walking down the street in broad daylight, when I came across three people I knew. Except they had bats and were about ten feet tall. One took a swing at me and connected with my head, waking me up with a jolt.

I was up late for summer school. All of the wall mounted AC units working through the night shorted out the fuse, resetting my alarm clock.

So I rushed to dress, and walked briskly to the bus stop. I looked up at the sky, and it was a brilliant blue color. The temperature dropped, and the day was looking lovely, so I slowed down to appreciate it.

About fifty feet away the bus left without me. I could've made it if I had paid attention and not slowed down.

So I sat and waited for the next bus, which didn't come for half an hour. While waiting, I saw a bus being towed by a very large red tow truck. I saw one person in that bus in a CTA uniform talking into his cell phone. It must've broken down recently.

So I walked into class about thirty minutes late, walking past snickers and stares, and just slinking into my chair.

I spent the next four hours reading Discover magazine and reading about Stephen Wolfram's book A New Kind of Science, periodically pausing to write something or finish an assignment.

The day went pretty quickly. But in front of that scummy looking motel, waiting for the bus to come, I noticed the clouds gathering. The weather was turning sour very fast.

On my block, I was walking to my house noticing the clouds getting darker. I reached for my key, but it wasn't there.

I froze. Hundreds of images ran through my head in an instantaneous blur of panic, until finally, "Damn, I left them on the kitchen table."

I so hoped that someone was home for once, but knocking on the door for ten minutes disillusioned me. I checked my wallet to see how much money I had... three dollars. I was starting to tremble because I hadn't eaten anything all day, so I went this place I knew, Stella's.

I asked for a small order of fries, and used the change to call my friend Saul on the payphone.

"Hey, what are you doing today?" I asked. I told him about what was happening.

"Sorry bro, but I'm going to a job interview," he said. "What about your girl?"

"Yeah, about that, see the thing is she's working right now."

"Ouch."

So I hung up. I knew what I had to do, I just didn't want to do it. I picked up the phone, put another thirty-five cents into it, and dialed, "Hello? May I speak to my father Urbano Paredes?"

A moment later, "Hello?"

"Hey Papi? I'm locked out of the house."

As soon as I walked out of the restaurant, the heavens opened and wept. My father worked about six blocks away from where I was, so by the time I got there, I was a dripping mess.

I walked in, dripping all over the carpeted floor. When I found my father, he was at a table with several people. I immediately received the third degree from my father in front of about a dozen of his coworkers. He talked about how irresponsible and forgetful I was, and had no shortage of examples to cite. I must've stood there for about fifteen minutes, a sorry sight to behold indeed.

I walked out of there completely humiliated and headed back to my house completely infuriated.

Now I'm sitting in this chair and typing. I just looked out the window, and now the skies are blue.

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