Wishful thinking
I have recurrent dreams in which the area beyond the hill linking my old neighbourhood to the town library is wide open pasture leading to southwestern desert, punctuated by a comic store, an open-air, tin-roofed ethnic eatery with questionable health ratings, and rhododendrons. It is beyond this a dry, lowered area is closed off by a wall of dirt. In this "valley", there is a McDonalds and a Burger King.

This McDonalds does not have a Happy Meal promotion. It does not have a dollar menu. Instead, there is a middle-aged southeast asian Man (perhaps a Malaysian) wearing a red apron and a triangular frycook hat. On the wall to my left are nearly empty bottles of soy sauce stacked on top of each other. He waits for customers to come in the dry wasteland.

Sometimes I dream I can travel from one place to the next very quickly. If I've forgotten my science textbook in a secluded little hotel in Georgia, I can return and fetch it.

I think these dreams reflect my desire to be closer to an actual mall. Cars are central to residents here.