::fragments::

I was in Portland, and went to school everyday, and Michael Moore was my professor. We saw each other at a bus stop on my way to school one morning. When I showed up late for a test, he came over to my desk and showed me the many-paged exam with lots of his pen marks on it and told me I was late and he didn't know if I could finish the test. I looked up at him and told him that he knew I was late because they had surrounded the bus stop I always left from with orange cones and the bus was late, making my trip to school two hours. He put the exam on my desk and let me take it.

On another day, I was carrying a large backpack, the one I take traveling, and in it was my light blue uniform from Catholic school. I had to change into it and did, covertly, for Michael Moore's class.

Later, I was carrying a bomb. It looked like a car battery, only instead of a digital readout showing the countdown, it was like an old fashioned gas station readout: numbers that rolled into the next number. I knew that I had about 4 minutes to place the bomb somewhere where it could safely go off and not hurt anyone. I wasted about 90 seconds trying to figure out where to take it. I jumped into a strange non-motorized vehicle and drove off. The landscape looked like Olympia, along with the weather--gray, cloudy. I found an elementary school set back in the woods. I simply walked right through the classrooms to the backyard, past the playground, where I spotted a deep marsh. I knew it would be best to leave the bomb there and let it create a sinkhole and avoid taking any lives or exploding violently. I left it in the marsh and mud and walked quickly back through the classrooms. I noticed teachers eyeing me, and as I moved to exit I knocked over someone's glass of iced tea. Sorry, I said, and left the building.