Dreaming in Digital

20210202

In a gallery room, I was with Flan. He was working on paintings and drawings, and was slowly filling the walls. But on this particular day, the gallery manager barged in, angry. He yelled at Flan, who was busy painting on a Bristol board sheet of a forest bathed in sunset. He was angry because this was the gallery's main attraction, and the walls weren't covered in art. The gallery was going to open soon.

I laid down on blanket was spread across the floor by a coffee table and fell asleep. In bird's-eye-view, I saw the days rapidly pass, from day to night and back around. Another girl came in and slept under the coffee table.

When I awoke, it was dark. Something felt wrong, as if it was the end of the world. I got to my feet, grabbing my purse and slung it cross-body. I climbed out the first window I saw. There was a trail of sunset in the purply-grey sky. Many people were running away, somewhere. I met with a [Bosmer] and a couple of humans. We ran into an apartment building and up the stairs to the second floor.

We holed off in a room, no bigger than 10' x 5'. The walls were stark white and carpeted in grey. Against the wall was a queen sized bed. To one wall was a line of 4 doors, each a different style and size. One of the doors had a foot from the bottom missing, so we tried to keep out of sight. We needed to rest and wait for daylight, so everyone cuddled up in the bed. I began locking the doors, and as I got to the last one, the Bosmer told me to wait for his wife. Not too long, his wife rushed through the door and slid into bed beside the Bosmer. The bed had five people on it, so I slept on the floor.

I woke up to wood cracking and saw a hand reach under the door, trying to reach us. I screamed, startled, thinking it was a zombie, and shook everyone awake. The Bosmer hopped out of bed and said, "time to go!" He told us to take only what we needed. I grabbed my purse and picked up my Gen2 iPod from the floor. I picked up a bag or yarn, but paused realizing I had to find a crochet hook. Dropping the bag, I ran out the door with the last few of us survivors, and closed the door behind me.

There was a wooden ship on wooden tracks waiting for us. Half already left on another boat. Once I got in, the operator behind me pushed an oar off the ground, paddling us forward. We tilted downhill and sped up. I felt my body get pushed forward as we rolled downhill. It felt like a rollercoaster, except not as scary.