The Dream files #1

I’m in an art workshop doing INSET training with several other lecturers. It’s a gloomy day – there isn’t enough light to see properly. I leave the workshop and wander into a playground with another member of staff, he goes on his way and I see a partition in a concrete wall and walk towards it. Then I am in a corridor with many rooms leading off it. I enter one room and the walls drop away, the floor is like a jetty and a long way below is a broad and muddy river that reminds me of the Ganges. A host of psychokinetic athletes are on the jetty and are engaged in various disciplines – one is levitating, another is juggling silver balls without touching them.

I realize that I am on some kind of flying craft and am aware of a noise that sounds like a helicopter. As I leave the wall-less room and re-enter the corridor it hits me that the organisation is a cult – you enter by choice but are never allowed to leave. Panic strikes and I wonder if I have been noticed yet. I find places to hide – behind a cupboard and in a stairwell, whilst chefs with checkered trousers pass by me pushing food trolleys.

Eventually I find another door, I open it and to my relief it’s ground level and the playground is there. I get out.


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