A dream or nightmare, altered by a fever to become particularly confusing and bewildering at the time and even more so in memory,
like a Bad Trip.
The following stories are based on actual events experienced by Glen Coburn.
Alien Abduction on Little Pocket
One day, I was walking down Little Pocket Drive in Dallas, Texas. It was a disgusting neighborhood. There was garbage strewn all over the place. I feared that I would be murdered at any moment. Then, a tiny sprite of a man approached me. He asked if I was scared. I could not let my guard down. He told me that he knew I was scared. He could tell by the cut of my jib. Without warning. A beam shot down from the sky. I was sucked up in it and hurled into outer space. A group of similar sprite men poked and prodded me until I screamed in agony. Then, I woke up.
Surrounded by Ronald Reagans
As a young man, I often hitchhiked through rural America. One time, I was trudging through the desert. Boy, was I miserable. As I continued, I ended up in a canyon. Hundreds of Reagan look-alikes surrounded me. They screamed at me about tax cuts and how they were the only way to save America. I ended up at a dead-end. There was nowhere to escape. Then, I woke up.
Isadora Duncan is Provocative Even in Death
Sometime in the 1990s, I found myself wandering through Pere Lachaise. Searching for the gravesite of Jim Morrison, I got confused and found myself at the final resting place of Isadora Duncan. She materialized and began dancing provocatively. After what seemed like hours and days on end, her dance accelerated day by day until I couldn’t stand it anymore. Then, I woke up.
Horrible Hags on 42nd Street
One time, I was in New York City. Time Square was glorious with vibrant, colorful lights. Walking and reading a paperback novel entitled, Waterheads of Brooklyn turned out to be a bad idea. The book was intriguing but I was so preoccupied by the uplifting story that I made a wrong turn and ended up on 42nd Street in 1976. It began as a wondrous jaunt through a quaint, historical district. But as most happy dreams do, it turned into an existential crisis. How did I get there? A nightmare ensued. I was surrounded by naked women who were almost attractive when I squinted. Unfortunately, they morphed into horrible hags with sagging tits and poor hygiene habits. Then, I woke up.
Vie de Regret
Recently, I was happy. Things seemed to be going my way until I realized the truth. There were many things in my life that made me nervous and disgusted with myself. I had chosen the wrong path so many times that I couldn’t bear to recall them all. Whenever I had encountered a fork in the road, I deliberately chose the bad path because I was determined to undermine my success. Then, I didn’t wake up. It wasn’t a fever dream. It was reality.
Don't Hate Me Because I'm a Serial Killer
I have been a ghost before so I really shouldn’t be worried about it. But one time, I found myself in a conundrum. Should I continue to be a ghost or should I reincarnate as a serial killer? I made my choice. I would wait as long as it took to find a more suitable next-life situation. As luck would have it, I ended up being the same person that I had been hundreds of times before. This put me in the precarious position of once again putting off the inevitable. At some point, I would have to come back as a serial killer.
I Saw Hillary Clinton in Benghazi
One fateful night, I was minding my own business as I took a walk on a quiet street in Benghazi. An elderly gentleman, walking his ugly dog passed alongside me. He was walking really fast for a man of his age. He offered me a pleasant greeting. He was speaking a foreign language so I didn’t understand his words but I recognized the spirit of them. My state of bliss was interrupted by a loud report. It sounded like a colossal explosion. I averted my eyes to avoid being blinded. I finally took a peek over to my right and I spotted a familiar figure running at full tilt away from the direction of the melee. It was definitely Hillary Clinton. She paused just long enough to pull out a bic lighter, spark-up the fuse on a stick of dynamite and hurl it in my direction. Then, I woke up.
Accidental Acid Trip
One time, I was tripping on LSD. It was particularly unusual because I had never taken the drug. It’s possible that I had ingested it by accident. Perhaps it was a baked good ingredient and I swallowed it without being informed of its presence. In any case, I was spaced-out. During that experience, the secrets of the universe were revealed to me and it was not a pretty picture. Everything that I thought I believed was in fact inaccurate. I learned that Rhode Island is not an actual island. Most of it is located on the mainland.