Oh, herro

J and I walk around a class encased building. Offices are scattered around and we navigate through an asymmetrical space. As we tour this office space there is movement detected outside the glass walls. Burgalers, theives, people with malicious intentions!

J and I race downstairs. He leads the way as he is more familiar with this business office. As we scramble around underground, the rooms we open are filled already with other people. We run into a narrow room filled with shelves from the floor to the ceiling. Empty shelves are conducive to climbing but not to hiding. I decide to take my place on top of a microwave placed above the doorway and J takes a place on the shelve to the right. We both turn off our cellphones and get ready to wait out the storm.

As we sit there J begins to talk. He talks rather loudly and I have to continually remind him to keep it to a whisper. Yet even after repeated suggestion that we not talk until after the trouble blows over he continues going on about rock climbing, and how awesome it is. Soon I see a light appear underneath me as the door is opened. I frantically motion to J that the attackers are here and that he should stop talking but it is too late. All I see are arms grabbing his arms and legs and with an "uh-oh" he is gone.

Frightened of being taken as well, I eye a shelf higher up on the wall and as I stretch out my arm to reach the ledge I ... open my eyes. And continue stretching in bed.