Dream.

I had a weird dream last night about some sort of technological-driven oppression.  Here's what I can remember.  It's a bit anti-climatic, since I wake up in a weird spot.  Parts of this won't make sense, either, but I think other parts would make a wicked movie. 

I am in a van on a highway driving with a woman who my mind's eye doesn't recognize yet feels familiar with.  Other girls are around me.  We're driving on an unfamiliar highway, but exit off onto a dirt path.  A cemetery is in front of us and I remember that I am in the van to visit my grandmother--my mother's mother--who in real life is alive.  My mind doesn't know this.  

We get out of the van--there other girls and I.  I wonder why they're here at the cemetery.  Everything is stoic.  The sky is grey.  It's misty.  We walk past the cemetery.  I question, I say, "Where are we going?  I was going to visit my grandmother."  Someone tells me no.  That's it, just no.  I continue to follow. 

Around the corner the trees clear and there is a wide open field with a structure that resembles an Amtrak station.  Above ground.  Trains--white, slick, futuristic.  Cables running everywhere.  Towers, men dressed in black with buds in their ears.  Everyone seems to be calm and collected, as if this is normal.  I try to blend in, but nothing feels right.  It's as strange to me in the dream as it would have been in real life.  


I'm being told to get on the train.  The Amtrak-subway-thing.  First, though, I have to take some sort of test.  (as I try to remember this part, I realize how hard this is to explain).  There's a thick, black, cable.  Everyone has to walk alongside the cable while holding it--running their hand along it.  It must send some indication of something to someone in charge, because at the end of the cable, a man in black is telling people where to go, based on a screen with results in front of him.  


I turn around and notice a couple behind me.  They are a stereotypical 40's couple.  Long coats, man wearing a hat, woman with pearl earrings.  Curly, brown, short hair.  They are slipping nylon, black gloves onto their hands.  They're looking around; their eyes are scared.  I recognize this as some sort of way to cheat the system--the gloves are going to tweak their "cable-test" results (I'm sorry if this isn't making any sense).  They walk along the cable, wearing the gloves.  No one but me seems to notice.  I feel like shouting to someone that they're cheating.  But when I turn around, they're already on a train.  I don't know where any of the trains are going.  I don't know which way is the right way to go.  I black out. 


I awake and I'm in a crowd of people being ushered off the Amtrak-train.  The sky and everything around me is grey.  There are mechanical sounds coming from every direction.  There are large cages everywhere.  More sophisticated than a lion's cage.  Huge, black, pulsing bars.  They're humming with electric current.  People are starting to feel frantic.  No one looks like they understand what is going on, anymore.  Everyone looks confused except the men in black.  


I recognize one of my guy friends.  He smiles at me.  A man in black comes up to him and whispers in his ear.  He goes away with him.  I'm terrified.  I'm being moved along in the current of the mass of people around me.  I have to walk or I'll be trampled.  I'm being directed toward one of the black, pulsing cages.  I'm crying; I'm scared.  I shove my way out of line and into another.  This one is going toward a warehouse.  Everything is grey; everything is metal.  Damp.  Cold. 


I spot my guy friend.  He smiles.  He has a device in his ear, and is dressed in black.  I rush up to him. 
He's calm and collected, I'm frantic. 
"What's going on, I don't understand, this feels wrong II---"
"Just, don't worry!" he laughs. 
"No, it's just that, I know this is stupid, but this just feels, like, wrong...I can't-"
"Relax.  What feels wrong?" still smiling. 
"It...it feels like the Holocaust or something," I blurt out.  
He laughs.  He hugs me.  It's a nice hug.  I calm down, a bit. 
"There.  Just relax. Just go with it.  Everyone's fine.  By the way...I've missed you." 


Fin.