In a dream I had last night

I was on a high floor in a small skyscraper when what seemed like a tremendous gust blew the top floor off the building. There was a large group of us in a big, open room a few floors down. We were trying to figure out what had happened when the whole building felt like it was knocked over in one piece. Somehow it didn’t affect our equilibrium, but we all knew it was the end. From a corner, Bob Dylan took out a guitar and started to sing; a presumptuous gesture, I thought. Maybe there were people there who didn’t want Bob Dylan to be the last thing they ever heard. It occurred to me then that the whole thing may have somehow been Dylan’s plot, and I considered the idea that we were in a high-tech video game or virtual reality he had authored.

The building fell through the air for some time, as if from a great height. Inside, we awaited our demise. But looking out a window, it appeared the building might land in the middle of a wide river, and that’s exactly what happened. The impact will kill us, I thought; but it didn’t. The building will sink and we’ll drown within minutes, I figured; but we floated easily, following the current. I climbed out a window, and walked to the top of the building, the prow of our ark. I took a seat, my legs dangling.

At once I could see we were closing fast on the ledge of an enormous, surging waterfall, five or more times the height of our building. The current guided the prone building across the waterfall’s threshold cleanly, the top floors of effortlessly gliding into the open air, projecting over the drop like a diving board. The view was dizzying. As our vessel began to tip over the falls, I raised my arms rollercoaster high and at the top of my lungs yelled, “YAHOO!”


 
text/photo copyright © 2015 Wyatt Doyle