8thdayfiction

…and on the 8th day, micro fiction was published on some dude's blog.

Dream Crimes

He woke up to the sound of a battering ram smashing in the door of his apartment.

He barely had time to sit up and put his glasses on before he found himself surrounded by helmet-clad, black jumpsuit-wearing…soldiers? Cops?…who had circled his futon and were all pointing what looked like black spray-painted Super Soakers at him.

One of the men–wearing a chrome-plated helmet, as opposed to the matte black of the others–spoke. “Jansen Connors, you are under arrest for dream crimes committed against the UWG.”

“UWG?”

“Unified World Government. Don’t play dumb, Mr. Connors.”

Jansen, whose hands had been raised above his head, slowly moved one to the end table to check his phone.

“HANDS WHERE WE CAN SEE THEM!”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, OK guys…I don’t even own a weapon. I’m reaching for my phone. Just a phone, see?” He held it up to them, the men’s Super Soakers following his every move. “I just wanted to check the…oh. Oh, MAN. I overslept. Like, WAY overslept.” He looked up at the…whoever they were.

“I’m in the future, aren’t I?”

The men allowed him to put some pants and shoes on before they hauled him off to wherever one went for committing dream crimes.

He was going to need them. He managed to sneak a glance out the window while everything was going down; it looked like the “Synchronicity Part II” video out there.

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