I have returned to the vegetable bin in a large and rather empty-feeling store to select a few
additional vegetables, perhaps because I have a coupon for a discount on them. Among the several
vegetables I select are two very large ripe avocados. Their rough green and black skin is slightly
pitted in a few places causing me to wonder if they are a little overripe, but I put them in my
basket anyhow.
Over at the checkout counter I pull out my credit card and a handful of other papers. After I have
paid for the produce I pack it, along with the papers, into the top of a large dark green internal
frame backpack. When I attempt to lift the pack onto my back it is too heavy so I rest it on the edge
of a folding table and slip my shoulders between the straps, but even then I stagger and almost fall
when I start to walk away with it. I keep from falling by leaning against another folding table
which to my relief does not collapse from the weight. I would hate to have fallen and caused a
scene.
When I leave the store it is dark outside and the road is covered with snow on top of old rutted
ice. I need to walk a short distance on the road then up a small hill to get to my car but the
snow-covered ice is very slippery and twice I almost fall under the weight of the backpack.
Fortunately both times I am able to recover my balance. When I reach the hill I step off the road
onto a snow-covered sidewalk which turns out to offer good footing. I am concerned that my legs may
not be strong enough to make it up the hill but I do not have any difficulty with it.
As I approached the door to the parking garage someone throws snowballs down at me from the roof,
maybe three floors up. I cannot avoid all of them so I pull my hood over my head and crouch down
until I can get through the door. A couple of snowballs hit me but they are soft and do no harm.
Inside I find that my car, a small four-door sedan, is blocked by another vehicle parked directly in
front of it so the front bumpers are almost touching. Clearly someone is intentionally blocking me
from leaving the garage. After I put my bag of groceries in the back seat, I notice that two
circles of bright light are shining down onto the roof of my car. One is larger than the other but
both are composed of multiple, mostly overlapping, slender rings illuminating the roof of my car
like little halos.
Wondering how I will get out of the garage, I see a older man coming over to meet me. He explains
that I cannot leave the garage until I pay a fine for not having a parking ticket. The ticket would
have cost $11 but with the fine, the total will be $111. I can afford it, and there is not much I
can do but pay it.