The scene begins inside Walmart. Though it is meant to be the Walmart near my apartment, the inside is significantly different from the layout of the true Walmart. It has become a maze, difficult to navigate.
Brian and I are shopping for our weekly groceries. Brian has gone off in search of something, while I am in the chip aisle with the cart. He finds what he is looking for and we continue on. He decides he needs alcohol.
Brian decides he wants Miller High Life, the champagne of beers. The cans in the cooler are much larger than in real life. Next to them there is a large container that looks like the container for liquid laundry detergent, yet appears to be filled with Miller High Life. Brian goes for that. It turns out, however, that it is indeed laundry detergent. He puts it back and decides that he does not want beer.
A young woman has suddenly appeared at our cart and is stealing grocery bags from us. Why did we have grocery bags prior to checking out? She says something to Brian and calls him “Babe.”
Brian grabs a four foot box of wine and puts it into our cart. He takes the cart and we separate; he goes to get microwaveable corndogs, burritos, and the like, while I go to get a filter for my water purifier and conditioner.
Suddenly, the book section of Walmart has grown. I look around, wondering where to go to find what I need. I make several laps around the growing book section, unable to find the necessary items.
The Walmart now has fully morphed into a Barnes and Noble Bookstore. On my third and final lap, I notice a familiar length of long, curly brown hair and a greenish purse.
“Hey, Suzanne!” I call out.
“Shayne!” She hugs me in a tackle and we fall to the floor.
From behind, Leigh Taylor makes some joke. Suzanne disappears and Heather Stephens arrives. Soon Colin comes up as well. They are all ready to purchase their books. I am worried that I will be seen as shoplifting, as I brought a book with me from home. I believed it to be Vladimir Nabokov’s Pale Fire, despite the book stating that the author’s name is P.F. Kittenburg [I believe the name may be derived from the book, P.F. standing for “Pale Fire” and the main character of Pale Fire being named Kinbote]. I have no problem leaving the store.
There is no parking lot. There is an expansive green field unlike any I have ever seen. There is a path made of pebbles which we follow for a long time before I wake up. My head is pounding. I look at the clock. 4:26 PM.