Bear Heads

Date: 5/13/2017

I'm in a rusty, dirty closet with half a door. There's a man there with me, but I don't remember who. I have a faint memory of the two of us escaping from some sort of prison, but barely. The closet looks out onto a rainy street and alley way. 18-wheeler trucks are passing by, with giant bear heads on wheels in front of them instead of the usual truck cab. The man and I are using slingshots loaded with long screws to shoot the bear-trucks as they pass.