The Things That Really Matter
I had a dream last night. Two factions of people were fighting, I don't remember what over. All I know is that it was trivial. A group from one faction stood on a hill, shooting down onto a city, mostly aiming for what I believe was a church. I was with this group, though I was very reluctant to shoot the devices. They were RPGs, shooting something similar to a grenade out of a one-gallon milk jug. (Remember, this was a dream; not everything makes perfect sense.) At one point, when my turn came, I finally refused to shoot the device, and disarmed mine, throwing away the grenade, but holding on to the jug. I told the other people in my group to stop, and stood up in front of the line of fire. Another girl became very angry, and shoved a device right in my face, implying that she would shoot me to get to the target below. I remember feeling slightly nervous, but highly determined. The scene shifted, as dreams do, and I found myself in the city, standing near a...