Today’s assignment is to write down my most recent vivid dream that I can remember.

So I was driving my brand new candy apple red and silver chrome Harley Davidson Sportster style motorcycle.  My car was in the shop and I had no other plan for getting to work, so I somehow ended up buying the motorcycle.

I had to stop at a local hardware store to pick something up and ended up leaving my bike there for an entire weekend.  I don’t know why I wasn’t able to take it home, but I figured I would pick it up the following Monday.

I showed up Monday to get my bike, but it was gone.  I went inside to talk to someone at the front desk to see if they knew where it might have been moved.  They suggested looking out in the back parking lots, but said it had probably been stolen.  I had the sinking suspicion that they might be right.

It was nowhere to be found.  I asked several guys who worked outside at the store, but they were tight-lipped.  One looked like he knew something, but was hesitant to tell me the truth.  I pulled him aside and begged him to tell me what he knew.  He looked around nervously before telling me that he saw someone from the local mob-run bike gang take it.  Instantly, I knew he was right.

I went to the police to see if they could help me, but as soon as they heard that it was the work of the middle-Eastern mobster (whose name I cannot remember) and who they were deathly afraid off, as well as possibly on the payroll of, I was sent away told they could be of no help to me.  I temporarily contemplated driving an hour out of town to his compound mansion and talking to him one to one, but then decided the better of it and just began to mourn the unfairness of a life where powerful evil people can just take your stuff and there are no consequences.

I awoke still sad that my beautiful bike was gone.