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The Very Scary Empty Closet

Date: 7-Jul-2005/16:40+3:00

Tags: , , ,

Characters: man

I was lying in bed, and a man was lecturing me from beside the closet while I was in bed. There was the feeling that I had been listening to a long speech, but when I was cued into the fact that I was dreaming, I couldn't remember any of the build-up.
man: "Okay, we're almost done. Now it is time to face your fears. This closet contains whatever you are afraid of."
A feeling of overwhelming tension and paralysis happened as he opened the closet doors. But I knew somehow that this was just a conditioning exercise. Becoming braver, I walked towards the closet...which was empty. Somehow my body was reset to be in the bed, and I got up to look in the closet again. Each time it was empty, and each time I'd wind up laying down again.
The man had vanished, so I decided to break the cycle and look around. I was in a building that had very pretty wood floors, and stepping out the front door I saw it had large walls made out of a very appealing blue stone.
There was a gadget in my hand...some kind of fancy cell phone and web browser, plus GPS. As I stepped into the street, it told me the name of the road was "Ismail street". The address was a four digit number starting with 6, approximately 6949 Ismail.
Note "Ismail" turns out to be a variant of Ishmael, and has the meaning "heard by Allah" or "heard by God". It has several uses of which I was not aware, as I had not heard of it before.
I got the urge to send a message to someone. There was a "send again to last contact" button on the device, so I typed one word that I do not recall and pressed "send". It would not let me immediately send the message, but had me go through a step where I was asked what date to put on the email. I had two choices pre-stored in the device: 1946 and 1996.
Note I picked 1946 because it seemed like a long time ago and certainly before such devices were created, and I like to raise alarms where possible.
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copy write %C:/0304-1020 {Met^(00C6)ducation}

The accounts written here are as true as I can manage. While the words are my own, they are not independent creative works of fiction —in any intentional way. Thus I do not consider the material to be protected by anything, other than that you'd have to be crazy to want to try and use it for genuine purposes (much less disingenuous ones!) But who's to say?