Had another vivid dream fragment this morning.  Very detailed and not connected to anything that I can remember.  I’m going to do my best to reconstruct it here in story form.  Only some of the details have been added or expanded upon.  But all of the characters, major actions, and objects are all straight from the dream.  Let’s do this first-person, too.  Makes sense.

We’re floating along the highway.  Yep, floating.  I look up and sure enough, it’s a hot-air balloon.  Well, really more like a blimp, but we’re in a hanging basket underneath.  It’s a big, damn basket though.  There’s room enough for a few of us, plus cargo.  Important cargo, apparently, though I haven’t been told what it is.  And I don’t expect to find out.  I’m really not all that interested.

I watch as we sail over the two-lane, divided highway.  Just above the cars and street signs.  Not long ago we floated over one of those convenience store/gas stations that thrive around highway exits. I didn’t catch much detail about it, other than the fact that it was red and looked familiar.  Reminded me of the one in Apalachin.  Similar layout, anyways.  But they’re all similar.

We started gaining speed and I watched more signs wizz by below us.  At the time I could see them all in great detail and they all made perfect sense. 

We continued on our way making idle conversation – the kind you forget almost as soon as it’s left your mouth.  Once in a while someone would mention the cargo, but that would get pulled into the undertoe of conversation or be lost to the clouds. 

We passed over one sign in particular that stood out.  It was the word "Color", bridging the highway in a bubbly font that looked like it was made from vacuum-formed plastic.  "But it’s all white" I said to anyone who was listening, which elicited a moderate chuckle from my friends around me.  I’m not sure who was there, but I know that it was a group of my friends.

Not long after we passed the sign, the wind (which I had previously taken for granted) died out and we came to a stop.  So I climbed down (or I assume I climbed down) and got into one of several cars that had been keeping pace.  Matt got into the other and we took off down the highway.  The balloon continued to meander slowly along the route, but it wasn’t long before we got ahead of it.

We came to a sudden fork in the road, and I couldn’t tell which direction I should be going, and whatever radio/cell phone communication I had back to the group was gone, or they were taking their sweet time getting me an answer.  Out of time, I chose the right lane.  It looked like more of a continuation of the road I was already on.

As I curved around the exit, I noticed a sign for route 51 west, and felt relieved.  We were headed west, so I was at least going in the right direction. 

Pretty soon I was driving slowly through the parkway of a small town.  There were shops and restaurants, but not the quaint, village type.  This was that same prefab parkway in every modern American town these days.  The exact same chain restaurants framed by hotels and car dealerships, with a few strip malls and sprinkling of actual local businesses. 

Completely unintersted we continued driving until we got to a more residential area, where Matt and I parked our cars and got out.  I’m not sure exactly why – maybe we were looking for directions.  But I was confident that Matt knew what was going on, so I followed him.

Matt was on his cell phone, talking with Beckie who was back in the balloon.  I followed him across a small field of grass in between the buildings of an apartment complex, and hopped a small, trickling stream.

From there we went up a set of wooden steps onto the deck of one of the apartment buildings.  "Hey Matt, the wind’s picking up, but I think it’s going to rain."

"No, don’t be ridiculous, it’s not going to rain." he responded, annoyed.  I’m sure it wasn’t anything I did.  Probably just the situation.  But despite his annoyance, I then pointed to a distant hill. 

"It’s going to rain." I stated again, this time with proof.  On that distant hill we could see sheets of rain moving like fog over the trees, swallowing them as it moved closer.

Without another word, Matt pulled open the screen door to the apartment whose deck we were on, and stepped inside.  "Matt!" I exclaimed in a shocked whisper.  He just turned to me with that same annoyed look, cell phone still glued to his ear.  "We can’t go in there!".  He rolled his eyes, but followed me back outside.

We retraced our steps down the deck to the lawn, and across the creek.  Along the way we passed a few young kids, one was a girl with a pink dress on, the other a boy in blue jeans.  Both wore hats and were tossing a ball back and forth.  They fixed us with stares of confused disgust, so I smiled. 

Not far past the children was a shed-sized house complete with curtains and a welcome mat.  "Matt." I waved to him, "over here, we can use this one!"  I gestured to my discovery, but he gave it one look and kept walking, never even slowing or breaking his pace.

A little farther down we got closer to the main road, and there was what I can only describe as a restaurant.  Matt walked in with a satisfied grin.  I smiled widely too and exclaimed "It’s perfect!"  And it really was.  It was laid out more like a cafe than a restaurant, but there was a diner-style serving bar that served candy.  The center was wide open and there were arcade games off to one side. 

And then it all ended as I woke up.  Not very exciting, but it gave me something to write about.  I’ve got another one from a few days ago that I’ll probably jot down today as well.