A unit that is in need of repair bring I to the shop. Forced to work with Nimrods that do not care about pleads of others. The two men at my side in this space take in any vehicle or task no matter the size and without warning or due diligence cram the extra jobs my way to fix, replace and repair. The attempt is to wash it before the reparations. Soap and chemicals burning everyone’s eyes. They do not listen when the haste is to be slowed down, crashing the customer’s machines onto garage. I warn in danger, the team mate lifts the machine into the ceiling. I raise my voice in danger, in disgust I throw my gloves at his face. The man whimpers as I try to repair the damage they made. Attacks me when my head is down. I smite him with a fist. I’ve only ever fired one person. This place was never organized, nobody wanted to listen, only sit back and laugh at the stock pile of problems. Pointing the finger at me. Taking all the money. Begging their brothers for me to be weary and scared.
Sometimes the dream realm is there to be avoidant of dangers. The vision is a short lived one. Only the dream catcher can put these beads in the web to be dealt with accordingly.
