Monday, August 07, 2006

Harry, and our investigation

I am sitting, doing an investigation with Harry into medical records. A nurse comes by and glares at me. She takes a card I have and scans it, and then lets me know that she takes a dim view of what we are doing. Later, we are looking at rural airports in the East. Harry is into biplanes and classic firearms, mostly rifles with polished wood stocks. Harry wears a dark gray fedora and is a collector and competitive shooter. Later, another investigator, who is trying to find Harry is with me and Harry's girlfriend. Harry's girlfriend is a striking woman. She is about 5ft-9in, slender, with rather short reddish brown hair and a Virginia accent. In answer to a question from the other investigator, she says that Harry has been at this one airport, and that he is involved in a competition, something like "classic firearm repair".

Saturday, August 05, 2006

My son


My younger brother carried my son in and lay him on the single bed. My son was in a program where he would become a naval officer. My son had been on duty all night, and was dead tired, so my brother carried him home and put him on the bed.


I was proud of my son, and I had been at a navy-related event, where I had talked with an admiral about my son, and what he was doing. We were all wearing our dress uniforms. The Admiral's uniform was rather different, as it was almost a dark, gray-blue, with silver braid, rather than gold, as is the case in real life. The Admiral was rather broad across, and there was so much silver braid, he almost looked like he was in some foreign navy, rather than ours. I was wearing my Lieutenant-Commander uniform at the event, since uniforms were required.



Later, my son was awake, and he was concerned that he could not log into American Express to check his balance, since for some reason, his password didn't work. My son had many of his belongings at our house. There was a half-built, balsa wood aircraft on a round table. About a dozen and a half of his keys were on the dresser top, and my wife was looking at the keys, looking for a specific key. Some had pastic tops that looked like car keys, while others were small, brass, with a round top, like cube drawer and flipper keys.



Later, I look out a window, and see my brother out on the lush, green lawn with a large square of brown cloth with small colored squares as a pattern. He is with other long-haired people who smoke, and wear Levis. The woman he is with is slender, about 5ft-6in, and has long, light brown hair.

Friday, August 04, 2006

Out in the backyard, looking to hide

In this sequence, we are under a gray sky, looking at the backyard of the old homestead. The backyard slopes way down to the retaining wall, with a final dip, right before it. The grass is dark green, and healthy, being well-watered. I am looking around, thinking that our young friend could duck down to hide, on the final downslope, next to the retaining wall. You do not want our jack-booted thug friends to find you, when they come by. Their questioning methods are rather nasty. They are a lot worse than something as tame as waterboarding. They are also a lot more painful, if not injurious. I could just go up and unlock the back door, so we could hide in the house. That is only good if they do not take the time to go in locked houses in their search. The modern version of the Gestapo's methods are just as brutal as their predecessors. You would only rely on ducking down out of sight of a cursory search, where they did not come all the way into the backyard.

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