::fragments::

I must have missed a tidal wave the day before. I stood on balconies overlooking the aftermath of the tidal wave, which actually didn't appear to be too bad. I saw lots of tropical looking plants--banana trees?--that were flooded with water from the wave.

I was a criminal of some sort in a motel room, and I could see that the detectives after us (can't recall who was with me) were training in on us with binoculars and watching us, and some were even approaching. Someone had left the door open with a bunch of grass? trash? against it, so one of the detectives came in, a portly mustached man, to question me. I was annoyed that the door had been left open. I ignored his questions and could tell that nothing drastic was going to happen.

Later I was sitting on some bleachers among many South Asian men who were busy talking and laughing. I moved away from them. Then it was as if I was watching a documentary, about a man who kept sea turtles in a mean cage, and his punishment was to let them go. I watched him let them go, and he was underwater with them. I saw little baby sea turtles that reminded me of sperm, swimming away from the man and away from the camera (if this was indeed a documentary). I felt a sense of justice.