means of arrival are not known, but the production of a painting being judged in a contest is recalled. the painting is a play on time and movement: an ocean scenery blurred by ever-moving waves and an arched repitition of the sun sitting in the context of a hazy sky. In the middle of the ocean are a group of gumbo-like, uniform pink beings huddled together in a circle with their arms wrapped around one anothers' necks. standing at the horizon of the ocean are a group of gumbo-like, uniform orange beings. in your mind, you recite how you'll explain the meaning of the painting. The repitition of the sun and the ocean stay still as the orange and pink dance a beautiful battle amidst the haze. after the drowning and destruction of such gorgeous creatures, only one pink remains. the sole pink being twirls like a ballet dancer to the forefront of the painting and takes one last look at the view, then vanishes into the motionless, ever-moving sea.
you walk away from the painting to sit down in the crowd. yours, though, is being judged at that moment and you're not standing there. yours wins amongst the four being displayed, so you run to the front of the audience and wave, then go back to sit next to a girl, melinda.
melinda is quite embarrassing. as paintings are being shown, she yelps out a loud and obnoxious "owwww, owwww" that thunders around inside of the quiet room. you inch down into your seat.
melinda's painting, overall, wins the contest. hers is a depiction of an old, fat woman's face being stretched from the top right corner of the canvas to the bottom left corner of the canvas. "it is actually good", you think.
much later, after desperately searching for your painting in a house filled with convoluted hipsters attacking you without any tact whatsoever, you call a girl fat, "why don't you eat a donut" and then see a group of old, conservative parents break from the hipster crowd that tell you to leave. on the walk back home, you call melinda and tell her, "today feels like a dream".