Molasses
I was walking home from my mom’s house. Every step was an incredible effort as if I was walking through two feet of molasses. It wasn’t painful, just very slow going. At one point I was along the Santa Ana River and I saw a lear jet taxiing up the concrete channel, In my mind it played as a Viagra commercial “For when you can’t get it up”.
Then I was in a West Costa Mesa residential street and along the sidewalk at one house they had inserted womens underware package labels (the cardboard card) into the ground, almost like a little fence. I then was on a major street and my sister Robbie and mom where there walking alone (without effort) going somewhere. I was very irritated at this point and didn’t really want to hear whatever Robbie was saying to me. I started to complain that next time I’m hiring a limo.