I was in a small dumpy apartment with three other people, two Mexican immigrants and one old man. I was also a Mexican immigrant or illegal alien. The old man had a coffin in the middle of the room which was for some reason totally normal to the rest of us. Everyone was bickering about what to watch for a movie that night. The old man was upset that there was a metal book shelf in his view of the tv. None of us offered to move it so he did it himself. As he was tilting the shelf forward to move it, a sharp support of the shelf from the other side tilted behind him and stabbed him right through the head almost instantly killing him. He staggered for a bit and wobbled and fell right into the green coffin closing the lid of it with a slam.
The tall skinny Mexican said, “oh shit now what do we do” and one of the Mexicans was already on the phone calling the police. I walked into the breakfast nook of the apartment and turned the stove off so the pizza wouldn’t burn and I remember hoping that the police wouldn’t discover it and eat it. The police came really fast and knocked on the door, I approached but just a second after they knocked they busted the door down and were handcuffing all of us. The shorter fatter Mexican was upset because he knew he would be deported back and was telling us that this is not how he wanted to return to his family, that most people return with something to show for it, not poor and deported, but they bring back nice things to give their families.
The short Mexican was holding a stack of postcard like advertisements from magazines and was ripping them. First he’d rip them in half and them into equal third parts and make a neat stack of them. I held these ripped cards and I remember squaring them up in my left hand like a deck of cards getting them straightened up. (The handcuffs disappeared somehow for this part)
Rodney, Jason, Bob and I were off for a long weekend trip to stay at Oprah’s mansion. It was a very tall white building overlooking a bunch of freeways with lots of multi-leveled decks off of one side. Inside it was a beautiful place. The boys stayed in one large room and my guest room was very small with a twin bed and shelves attached to the walls high up, but it was a luxurious room with reds, pinks, golds and yellows. That night I woke up from sleeping and realized that my room must be up against Oprah’s bathroom. I could clearly hear her pooping! It was a really farty poop too. I couldn’t wait for morning to come so that I could tell the boys all about the Oprah poop.
The next day I went out on the decks to find the boys. On one level was a caged huge angry black wolf. The cage had white squared shaped thick bars but no top on it. The wolf didn’t jump out but I thought he could have. I found Bob and told him about the Oprah loud pooping.
I don’t remember what his reaction was and I never saw Oprah in the dream.