The other night I found myself dreaming of carrying a box full of nitroglycerin-filled mason jars into a large mall, and setting them on a shelf in the middle of a concourse. I became really upset when they exploded and harmed a nearby girl who happened to bump the shelf. After wandering around the Mall in a depression, I met up with my girlfriend and another unknown guy friend. Soon after an earthquake started rattling the place, so we headed down a back hall to try and catch a train out of the area. Walking towards the station outside we headed down a street between an upraised monorail track and a park on a hill. This area was known as the place horses went to die, because the ground of the street and the hillside of the park were covered in layer upon layer of decomposing horse carcasses. The bodies all laid in the same position on their sides next to one another, with the flesh so eaten away by time that they were nothing more than horse-shaped mounds on the ground covered in old, long hair atop decomposing meat and bones. Afterwards we boarded the train and left the area.
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