Fragments from a longer dream or series—The train was chugging along normally when it decided to break apart. Cars and groups of cars spread out in different directions, forming an instant, disorganized rail yard but without the tracks. The engine—or was it the caboose?—wouldn’t or couldn’t stop and burst into steam or smoke. It was foreboding.
Again I was flying over a swimming pool that ran through a city like a river. Huge dark shadows of enormous fish appeared just below the water, and planes ducked under the water in pursuit. “What are they doing?” I asked. “Catching fish,” a voice answered. We seemed to do the same. There were more planes making more dives than there were fish, and I worried and wondered, but not about why.
I was looking for a street exit from a building, but kept getting more trapped. I would come upon stairs, but they proved to be channels into which I had to fit to slide down. There was no up. I began to think there was no out, either.
I was at the top of an ancient, crumbling stone staircase leading toward the bowels of the earth. At the bottom was a wall—a dead end. A monster I could not escape had run me to ground.