dream writing February 2016

I'm on a bus with perhaps a dozen people I seem to know. We're traveling through a tropical countryside; and outside are dense green bushes; and I'm familiar with the inside of the bus, its seat-backs and the bend of its window-frames, as though I'd been on it for a while. For some reason I exit the bus (although I don't remember actually doing so) and am walking down a roadway made of crushed white stone in the bright sun when I suddenly I realize want to get back on the bus again. I walk to the end of the roadway and see it driving down an asphalt road, away from me, but know I cannot reach it by running toward it. I turn and run-leap (a type of movement similar to that used by people moving about the lunar surface) down the white roadway, stopping at an intersection to check for the bus. I'm in a densely built-up neighborhood and cannot see the asphalt road, wherefore I enter a nearby hotel via a narrow, poured-concrete ramp. To each side of the ramp are flowers growing, and one side has a pond with fish in it.

Once inside, I approach the reception desk and speak to the person working there. She has dark hair and is wearing a uniform of sorts with a name-badge. She looks Balinese and doesn't quiet understand what I want. My cellphone doesn't have signal, so I can't use my translation application, and wonder if I can get On-Line somewhere. I turn to try to talk to another worker, a man, who however walks into a nearby, darkened room. The room has a block of cubicles in it with more activity – people walking around – behind the cubicles. To one side is what looks like an ATM, which I try to enter, but after going inside it turns out that the ATM has been removed, and as I'm walking out I hit my head on a sign announcing the machine's removal, which although it hangs very low I somehow missed on the way in. On the other side of the block of cubicles, which are partially filled by people sitting there with their heads down, I see a conference or school room with rows of computers on them, some of which have people sitting at them. I try to go into this room with the intention of getting on the Internet and telling the people in the bus where I am but every time I try to go in the darkened room's layout changes, and the people in the conference room start getting up and walking past me, somewhat upset at my attempts to enter. Soon thereafter, the dream ends and I wake up.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥