"This is poison," my doctor said, handing me a prescription for Avelox, "but all antibiotics are, to some extent." I am tired of being ill, I will drink whatever posion is promised to help. Still, the warning is unusually stark. A search for side-effects reveals permanent blindness and a few other equally thrilling ailments; however, they are all rare. And then I see that fun is just around the corner. "Moxifloxacin," I read, "may induce nightmares, unusual thoughts or behavior". I take a pill and go to sleep full of anticipation.
My dreams, when can I remember them, are monotonous and autistic. Usually they consist of aimless wandering through some unknown cities, with hardly any human interaction, an experience similar to a first-person shooter game with the difficulty level set to "few monsters". In one particular scenario that I see every now and then I go back to Moscow to dicover that while I was away several new metro lines had been built. Then, of course, I have to navigate the unfamiliar maze of interchanges and take train after train. I used to derive some pleasure from trying to recall the metro map in the morning, weird colors, strange loops and all, but then I went to Japan. The complete map of Tokyo railway lines beats my dreams hands down.
Avelox gave me a gun. I dreamt that I was sitting in the middle of Avenida Insurgentes spraying the traffic with bullets. Shattered glass was everywhere, but cars kept coming. Every now and then a big red bus would pass spitting a cloud of black smoke in my face (this was a nightmare, after all). In spite of this, I am pleased to report that I did not shoot at public transport. I was expecting a stand-off with the police, but this being Mexico, the police never came, so I decided to escape.
Here I fell into the old scheme of running through an unfamiliar urban landscape, only this time I was followed by a nasty-looking guy (think of Jean Reno wearing black round glasses) who would jump with joy each time he found my next hideout. I had spent all my bullets on innocent commuters, so I had to take shelter in houses, repair shops and so on, and talk to the people. One young man, seeing my distress, tried to calm me down by saying that his father was an assassin like me, and there is nothing wrong with it, this is just a job like any other job. When I felt I couldn't run any more I woke up. I was tired as if I had actually done all the running and shooting.
So far, I would rate the experience as 3 stars out of 5. You can get this shit on Playstation, no need to take antibiotics, and you don't get as exhausted. On the other hand, not that I had any choice. They say that Avelox is really good at killing bugs.
Now I am having a good rest. The next pill is scheduled for midnight.