Dream

I lived in this city separated into three districts by how dream-like they are: New City, Old City, and Not City.

New City was where almost everyone lived, and the most dream-like. It had sprawling streets and interesting buildings. It was everything from a bustling downtown shopping district, to a southern suburban neighborhood. The oppressive government also had the strongest presence here.

Old City was considerably less dreamlike, less populated, and many buildings were abandoned. There were a few people who wandered around still, even after the government had demanded everyone move to New City. It looked kinda like NYC looked in Division 1. It was entirely fenced off from New City by the government, to prevent people from hiding out in there.

Not City was not a dream. It was perhaps 100m of grassy field, then a thick tree line which you couldn’t see past. It was where people went to wake up. Talking or discussing it in any way was a major crime. Attempting to flee there was an instant kill-on-sight, and the government would do most anything to stop people from getting there. 

I lived in New City and wanted to wake up. I had to find a group willing to break the law to get to the other side. One day in a seedy bookstore, a bald man with a sharp nose and beady eyes approached me. He told me he would guarantee my passage to Not City, if I joined his movement. Seeing an opportunity, I said yes. He never actually told me what the movement was, but I figured it out after I showed up to a crowd of suspiciously familiar red armbands.

One night, there were three of us walking in a replica of a southern suburb (two lane road, fair amount of pine trees), and one of the Nazis grabbed a government flag, lit it on fire, tossed it to me, and I tossed it into the trees. As soon as it was in the process of leaving my hands, a sheriff rounded the corner and saw two guys dressed in full SS uniform, and a dude in the process of starting a wildfire.

We all split for different parts of the woods, but the government had dogs out before we could make it far. We were all arrested. I was sent to re-education camp, and I’m not sure what became of the other two. Re-education camp was held on the rooftop of a dorm in a busy part of the city. We were never allowed to leave, and we spent a 12 hour shift up on the roof, throwing this massive boulder off a ledge. They promised us if we could move it X feet in one go, they’d let us free immediately. Obviously it was impossible, but I figured out if I pushed it a certain way, it would ding the fence lining the roof.

I did this enough that a small chunk of the fence fell out, and I told the others. They didn’t want to escape and got super pissed. They ran downstairs to tell the overseer, so I hopped through the missing fence and slid down the drainpipe. I ran through the streets, cut through alleys, and went through buildings (some of which grew right out of the street), until I found my way to the shopping district on the edge of town. 

On one street, there were these two building which had a two-story brick building that looked like an apartment block that had been chopped off past the second story. So these buildings were separated by the street, but had an arch running between them. On the left was a store I knew, a small new-age place with a bookstore and an outdoor meditation garden— that looked out over the Old City. The place was called Not For The CIA, which was painted in red letters on the small white door. 

I walked in and was greeted with an identical small white door in front of me, and one to my left. I took the left one to get into the bookstore, and ran out into the meditation garden. I scaled the fence, carefully pushed past the barbed wire, and ran down into Old City. I could hear sirens, so I ran.

The streets here were far more logical and cohesive. No dead-ends, no detours through buildings, no unexpected 180 degree turns, etc. so I was able to move fairly fast. I could hear the police and their dogs in the distance, but I made good ground. The main ways out of Old City has been blocked by rubble, so I detoured through a tunnel system. It took me almost a full day to make it to the outskirts of the city. 

Sitting on a small stump, just before the grassy field of Not City began, was an old hobo reading a book. I approached him and suddenly felt the need to tell him everything— the scheme of the Nazis, the state of the government, the migration towards a more dream-like city, the escape, and my goal. He laughed and said something like “History always repeats itself, wouldn’t you know”. He gestured past him to the tree line, “Go on Ahead. I can hear the dogs.”

So I ran for the tree line, and right before my foot crossed it, I looked back. A large police force with dogs all stood there staring, not daring to pass the line into Not City. They all looked identical to the man who invited me into the Nazi Party, bald with a sharp nose and beady eyes. They stared, and I stared. Suddenly, I woke up.