Dream Log #01 - Instant Potatoes

This is my account of a real dream that I had a few years ago...this is 100% true fiction.

The Potato Box

I was at my parent’s old house. We were having a party or something like a party. There were people all over the house. I didn’t recognize or know any of them, but I knew they were all family and friends. I went outside to get something from the car, and on the porch was an old man sitting in a rocking chair. The man was white, and talked and looked like he was from the South Eastern part of the country.

The old southern white man said nothing to me when I was at the front door but after I left the car and was returning to the house, he began to rattle off an array af racial slurs directed to me. I attempted to ignore him, but he continued.

I was angered by his verbal abuse, but I could not say anything back to him. I immediately tried to find another black person in the area to return his lashing, but I was alone in my shock and speechlessness.

I went into the house and tried to find someone to validate what my ears had herd and found my dad. I told him and we both went outside to confront the old southerner, who by the way, no one knew him or where he came from. When we got back outside, the old white southerner was no where to be found. So My dad and I decided to get in the car and try to find him.

Before I knew it, my dad and I were loading several guns and weapons into the back of a large white pickup truck. After the arsenal had been stocked, we took off.
Somehow, we tracked the racist southerner to a local Food Lion Grocery store.In the store, we franticly ran up and down every aisle but could not find him.

Ready to give up, we were about to leave the store when I heard his voice, repeatedly blurting out racial slurs without pausing to take a breath. I ran toward the voice, and on the way, I stopped and talked to a Black security guard.

“you don’t hear that?” I asked

“Naw, man.” The security guard answered. From the tone in his voice, he wouldn’t have cared even if he did hear him.

I finally got to the source of the voice and saw the old racist southern white guy stuffed into a box of Instant mashed potatoes. I opened the box and saw that his body was shrunk small enough for him to stand completely straight inside of the box. I threw the box on the floor and stomped on it repeatedly until my foot was covered in white powder and shredded cardboard…

The SOuthern Racist man was nowhere to be found.