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vivian:
i’m in a car, heading north, on a freeway or large road. it feels like i’m driving, but i reckon not, since i’m looking out the passenger hand side and don’t really remember actually grasping a wheel. a policeman is jogging, and he is jogging hilariously. he has grey cut-off sweat pants on his lower half, but is in full uniform from the waist up. he is wearing a long-sleeved tan shirt (highway patrol or something?), which is bizarre since there is the illusion that it is extremely hot outside. the sun is huge in the sky. his jogging is slow-paced, and he is just barely separating his legs, as though they were shuffling along on the pavement (shuffling in jogging form, if one can imagine it). in his left hand, he even fucking has a baton. his elbow is bent as he’s running, and he’s holding the baton upwards loosely. it’s kind of making circles in the air as he’s running. it never goes up past his head. i don’t remember what he looks like. i do remember another car passing by as well, and the girl driving it and i smile at one another.