The Shortcut from Eugene to New York

I dream of a late night party.

It's pass midnight on the first day of the year, before dawn. [person A] suggests traveling to New York, notwithstanding the guests think that's impossible. They say to drive would be crazy and if we do so we would get there at 6:00 in the evening. Sure of what he wants, [person A] insists, and we leave.

We get to New York in an instant. [person A] amazes me; I didn’t imagine that he knew such a fast route between Eugene and New York.

I would have thought it takes at least 4 hours of travel between the two cities, instead [person A] knows a better way. He plans to stop and buy beer on the way out of Eugene, and further on, he says, past the store, the city of New York starts. We arrive and park his luxurious white BMW in

front of a house.

[person B]’s envy is apparent when she sees us. I hadn’t realized how horrible are the wounds I've on my legs. Some are new, whereas I got the others the last time. One in particular, right in the middle of the right shin, looks really bad and is covered with some kind of transparent plasma that looks like serum. The ideal thing would be to put a patch on it, but I don’t have one. Instead I take a sheet of paper with the dream I wrote and use it as a patch. I ask for a second opinion.

We enter a house, passing a girl in front with her pants below her hips and her underwear showing. It feels she knows she has a sculptural body, and her attitude is carefree but. we know it's her personality. She appears again, this time she approaches the room only wearing underpants, to presume her firm buttocks.

Last of all, we arrive at a neighbour’s party. Inside, the mouldings and arches are carefully decorated with paint in

arabesque style.

[person B] is stunned by the patterns and mirrors. She's taken, because it's what she's looking for, a cosy house.

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