Last night we made the bomb, several large Drain-o bombs, that would blow up our house, some insurance scam or something. We had few necessities with us when we left the house, but I felt a great need to go back while the house was still igniting. I ran into my room, the house smelling of nasty toxic fumes, to rescue a few items: the sweater, Snoopy, the blue Ibanez, Camelbak, and some letters. Just as soon as I crossed the street, our house went up in a magnificent array of pinks and oranges and blues.

Goes to show my family's evil, even though they would never do such a thing. Dreams are torture though, when all that is expected is sweetness and what is received is deception.