Good morning, everybody.
I was riding in a car with my mom and my oldest nephew. My mom was driving, and my nephew and I were in the backseat. We were driving up onto some bridge over a wide blue river which possibly ran through or at the edge of some big city. I was reading to my nephew from some book that I liked. But I couldn't tell whether my nephew liked the story or whether he was bored by it. He may have been half-laying against my left arm while I read to him.
We were trying to get through. But at one point, not too far up onto the bridge, the road was blocked. It seemed to take us by surprise. We almost crashed into the place that was blocked off. The area looked like it was under major construction. There were big, thick, wooden posts standing up all through the area. We may have tried to get through, but there wasn't even enough space between posts for our car to get through.
My mom pulled the car backwards, then turned it counter-clockwise to get heading back down the bridge. I may have been insisting to my mom, before we'd gotten to the block, that we could get through this road on the bridge. But now I had to admit we couldn't.
As we were turning, I saw a triangular, metal-pole swing-gate which was blocking off yet another road going in the direction we'd wanted to go in. This swing-gate had a metal sign on it with a black figure of a man, like are usually seen on traffic signs.
The figure had one of his hands reached out, and a circle, not originally part of the sign, floated over the man's hand, like some kind of magic orb. It looked like the circle had been naturally rusted into the sign, and that it was just luckily placed. But I also thought that a group of punk-rocker-like kids had put the orb-like symbol onto the sign, as some smart-alecky reaction to the road being closed.
We had turned around and were driving at a pretty normal speed again. I had finished reading the first story to my nephew. I thought for sure he'd want me to stop reading. But now he asked me to read him a book of his.
I was surprised and pleased. But I also felt bad. Maybe my nephew really had been bored hearing my stories. Maybe he'd have been happier if I'd read him his own stories from the beginning.
The story he had me read him was titled A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's court. I opened the book and started reading it. It was like a children's picture-book retelling of the classic story.
I was about halfway through the book -- that may have been where I started the book. But the picture, which ran across both pages, was a cartoony image of a kind of icy, antarctic landscape with a pink sky in the background. There were a few baby dragons all over the place, with two baby dragons in the foreground. One of the dragons was black and looked like the main dragon in the movie How To Train Your Dragon.
I wondered what the heck this stuff had to do with Mark Twain's novel. But I figured that maybe I'd remembered the story wrong. I thought that maybe the story involved a time machine and the main character travelling up through time, through different time periods, before finally reaching King Arthur's time. I thought that that would be like dramatic buildup to the main attraction.
So I started reading. The story seemed to be more about the dragons than anything else. The story seemed to involve one of the dragons "huffing and puffing," like the wolf in "The Three Little Pigs."
At some point my mom asked me and my nephew if we wanted some white chocolate, or if we wanted another white chocolate. I knew she meant something like an ice cream bar on a stick, or a Fudgesickle, except made out of white chocolate. I could see an ice cream bar on a stick, with vanilla ice cream, coated in white chocolate.