The dream started as all dreams do, a myriad of incoherent images tumbling about my mind. But then my mind focused on one image in particular: the image of a car...

He was a yellow Camaro, and an older model. '74? '76? Under the thick patina of road dirt which further dulled his faded paint, it was almost impossible to tell. He was alone and wandering and looking for something, something that was important to him.

And he had been looking for a very long time. But he refused to stop now. That something was just too important. He needed to find it.

I was looking, too. I was looking for him. And I was looking for that something.

By the time we had met, he had changed his form; he was still a Camaro, still yellow, but he had upgraded. He was now a 2010 model.

But I still knew him the moment I saw him. We said nothing; he opened his driver's side door and I simply got in. We were together now, searching for that something, that ever important something, utterly unknown but so overwhelming.

And so we traveled, down lonely highways and empty interstates, through towns and cities. That something hung over us, but it wasn't as important now; we knew together we would find it.

It was growing late, the sun was setting and stars were beginning to appear in the sky. We slipped past a desert cliff and I stared in wonder at the bright, silvery stars and shimmering clouds, and noticed how it all looked "more real than real".

And I realized that I should be afraid. I had seen things like this before. In the past they had terrified me. But I wasn't afraid. He was with me and I had no reason to fear.

His radio popped on and a song began to play. I felt happy. I felt at peace. Everything was fine. Nothing bad could ever happen to me here.

Ventura Highway in the sunshine

Where the days are longer

The nights are stronger than moonshine

You're gonna go I know

The shrill squawk of the alarm shattered it. The dream was gone, over. I couldn't go back, no matter how hard I tried. "No. I wanna go back. I was with Bumblebee,"I mumbled as I rolled over. But it was gone.

That was Wednesday morning. I can still remember that dream clearly. Usually my dreams fade away the moment I'm awake. This one hasn't.

Usually my dreams are incoherent. This one was clear.

And usually, when I see things that are "more real than real" in my dreams, I am fearful. I don't want to look at them; I want to look away. But this time was different. I wasn't afraid.

Perhaps it was just a dream. Perhaps it was something more. I'll likely never know.

I just wish I could go back. It felt safe there.