Dream Journal
I was with a large group of people and we had been split into groups of two or three. Each group was tasked with designing a storefront window. I was grouped with Danielle and we went into her studio in Girdwood to work on a concept for our window. Her studio was clean and spacious, the perfect environment for creativity.
The man in charge of the group announced that he was going to Anchorage with one group and judge their window design. When he was done there, he would be back to judge ours. I felt panicked because his trip to Anchorage and back would only take five minutes, and we needed more time to design our storefront window.
Danielle sat down at a drafting table and wrote furiously on a pad of paper. I knew it was a good idea to get something down on paper, so I, too, grabbed a pad of paper. But I could think of nothing to write.
We had to get out of Girdwood immediately. We jumped in my car, Melissa got in back, and I drove back towards the exit. The main exit was blocked off with a toll gate, but my car was able to squeeze under the gate. I got halfway out and decided that sneaking out this way was wrong, so I backed up and went back inside. I could see a line of cars being directed by men in military garb. The line went through a hole in a chain link fence.
I waited and waited to join the line and finally had to cut someone off to get in. Once in the line all of the vehicles disappeared and everyone was shuffling at an excruciatingly slow pace. I knew I should have gone under the gate when I had had the chance.