This afternoon I dreamt that I was going to school in Hawai'i. To get to class, my friend Chrystal, another friend who was a Hispanic guy I don't know in real life, and I would cross a big concrete bridge from one island to another. (The islands were very close together.) The channel between the islands was very shallow, and a series of concrete seawalls and levees controlled the flow of sea water in and out of it. In the morning as we crossed the bridge, we saw that the local government had drained the channel down to only a few feet deep and had authorized a manufactured restaurant to be erected on stilts right in the middle.
My friends and I went to a Spanish class, where I found I could speak Spanish better than the teacher. My Hispanic friend and I had a long conversation in Spanish about who of our friends would get married next. I was especially proud of my use of past subjunctive during this conversation.
When class was over, all three of us started walking back over the bridge. My guyfriend said he'd like to move to Hawai'i next semester (which was confusing because I'd thought we were in Hawai'i already). As we crossed the bridge, we looked over the side and saw a large fire engine/ambulance on stilts in the middle of the water. The restaurant was gone. The red fire engine had its lights on, but not the siren. A bunch of paramedics sloshed around up to their necks in the Pacific. A huge crane hovered over the scene, explaining without words how the fire engine had gotten out there in the first place.
"What's going on?" I asked Chrystal.
"They're testing the emergency response in the middle of the channel," she said.
"Hmm," I said, and then I woke up.
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