“Love is an attempt to change a piece of a dream-world into reality.” ~Henry David Thoreau~

Some kind of big math competition at west side, but I was staying in a hotel with Beatrice and Orr. my mother was driving and my father in the back seemed to always rest his hand on beatrice's butt. On the first trip up I raced my mother but I was out side the car. Nana and pappy were there at a different room and I wanted to sleep there when I left. The competition at Westside involved making it a Harrison-Westside conglomerate and it was now the biggest school in Indiana with the biggest ice rink. Before the competition I went to get food. I wanted Chinese (served by Michael's family) but they were out of jalapenos and fried rice so I was going to go to the Indian one next door. I had to drive there and in the traffic it took like 45 minutes. I saw Bruce Hamaker going in and I think I cut him off. I couldn't get my food and decided to go to the Harrison student run Italian restaurant, but decided it was too late. My watch read 0:56 but the clock on the car read 5:56 and the sky was neither robin's egg nor navy so I began to worry that I had missed the test. Coming home from the route from Lafayette to West Lafayette I encountered many wandering Purdue students just sitting there playing football. some of them had spray paint cans which wouldn't mark anything but the cloud of gas that appeared when they sprayed smelled awful. I turned onto that ramp that goes to the McCartney's house and then proceeded to get home somehow. Beatrice and Orr were no longer there and my grandparents had come back and the basic topography of my house had changed. It was vaguely reminiscent of beatrice's house with an elongated corridor at the top leading to my room. I got down to studying, which required me to do a series of puzzles (either virtual reality or real) in which I, a ball of slime,, need to make it through a maze. I was either a genius, or I had done it before (more likely the latter) and so I blazed through it with an almost muscle memory kind of ease. You could throw explosives at walls, bounce part of yourself up a wall, and physically remove goop. My father had just come home and was upstairs talking with my grandmother about what was going on because it sounded like someone was cutting a log. I realized now that I had been balling my eyes out and it had the distinct sound of cutting a log. I look over to my father and see that outside it is very sunny, unlike how it had been when I first had arrived. It struck me that, since I left the complex to begin with, either no time passed, or 24 hours.