I dreamt of zebras playing chess last night, so I knew the morning was going to treat me oddly. That soon became reality as the guy in the chicken costume rolled across the hood of my blue sedan, spilling his free samples on my windshield. I would have stopped, but I just discovered the brakes were out. I turned the windshield wipers on, to wash away the barbecue rain. Although, I should of left it put. I was already heading into the blurry office building.

Busy bees scattered throughout their hive, staplers, monitors, chairs and desks flying everywhere. Panicked employees dove for safety to no avail against my charging hunk of steel. Old America triumphing over shoddy New America. A beautiful rain of glass shards marked my exit.

Soon, gaining momentum on the downhill of Wabash, the car seemed to have an idea where it was taking me. I let go of the wheel and sat back for the ride.

Next stop was the busy pier of city gawkers and street performers who cashed in on weekend migrants. A clown on stilts was caught under the car for a brief time, leaving a happy-face skidmark before rolling free. I caught the whole act in the rear view. The car topped out at a hundred and twenty miles an hour as it charged onwards.

The car rumbled and rattled on the wood slats, the engine growling louder as we headed for the end. I braced myself for the exciting climax of the journey.

We made the leap into the warm hug of the earth, becoming a tomb for future explorers.