Al of my dreams on this continent have sucked, except this gem I had while catching a quick nap in Moscow:
I was walking down Nevsky-Prospect in St. Petersburg, Russia, with a friend of mine. I think we were drunk, but we were definitely coming home from some bar. We run into two very Russian-looking guys, and they ask us for a light. Of course, I speak Russian v. well in my dream, so I understand them and pull a lighter out of my pocket. The more outspoken of the two Russian dudes takes the lighter and tries to light this little stub of a hand-rolled cigarette. It is at this moment that I notice that these two men are covered in bloodly, ragged bandages and bruises. The one with my lighter has lost a few fingers, and his taller, quieter friend has a prosthetic leg. It is clear that these dudes have been in some serious accident, although how recently is hard to tell because all of their wounds are in various stages of healing. I look at these Russian dudes and they are just starting to look creepier and creepier and all of a sudden I notice all of their weird facial tics and menacing scars...
The stub-cigarette is clearly not going to light, so the Russian dude pulls out a cigar, some magic kind of cigar that, like a strike-anywhere match, will practically light on it's own. The man strikes the cigar against the building next to us, takes a puff, and they are on their way.
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