DREAMDATE: May 13, 2008
I was visiting my sister Jane who had just moved into a fancy new suburb in Edmonton. The houses were close together and of grandiose design – brick exterior and almost castle-like on the outside with huge square doors, but smaller and cozy on the inside. There were a few people around before Jane got home from work, and we went outside to hang out. Somehow I got my hands on a neat little crayon, if perhaps I felt a bit artistic. But it wasn’t an ordinary crayon, and in fact it wasn’t even little. It was a large, thick thing about the size of a frankfurter and it was bright neon orange! Vandalously enough, I decided to go across the road and try it out on a neighbour’s lower veranda! This crayon was probably not made of wax. When it hits the surface of the brick, it melts into a paint-like substance and writes very glossy and clean. But it was not messy to hold. I proceeded to write my name and draw a few squiggles, then wrote something about Jane being awesome. But quickly realized I might get into trouble for vandalizing so I wore down that paint crayon by scribbling over everything!
