Tuesday, September 30, 2008

Dreams are No Escape

Last night I dreamed I left the trilogy behind, and flew away with my family to some impossibly lovely beach, where rappenans (armadillo-sized creatures with elephant heads) scavenged in the dunes. But having crossed the world for this vacation, we found that the little bungalow we’d seen online had been replaced by a 17-story resort, with a doughnut-shop theme. We moved in, deeply depressed. A poster in the lobby promised “doughnut fireworks” at midnight.

Well before then I found myself in the resort’s theater, listening to a vampire attempt a stand-up comedy routine. It was certainly an edgy show. He was a notorious vampire, and we were afraid of him. Each time one of his jokes fell flat he became violently angry, and cursed us at the top of his lungs. At last we grew so nervous that we would burst into deafening laughter before he could get anywhere near his punchlines.

He lost control. He ran from the stage, and returned wheeling a machine that hummed and sizzled. It had a switch for every seat in the theater, and he began to throw them one by one, with shouts and flourishes. Each time he did so an audience member died. Needless to say this killed the laughter too.

I rose and fled before he could throw my switch. But even as I scooted past the corpses in my row, he pointed at me from the stage: Writer! I’ll get you! You can’t live on donuts alone!

This dream contains a profound and timeless lesson. And I have no idea what it is.

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