Dream XVI

I was a well-known science fiction author, and I was checking in to a hotel in Washington, DC. I asked the desk clerk if he could mail something for me. It was a short story that I was sending off to a magazine. He said that he would, and I gathered my things and went to my room.

The room was stark white, except for some blue drapes. It was also, aside from the bed and a chair, completely devoid of furnishings.

Once settled into my room, I realised that I had accidentally grabbed some of the desk clerk's papers. And among them was a short story that he had written. So I sat down to read it.

While I was reading, I began noticing some of the insects and other animals in my room. Up near the top of the drapes was a small lizard, and down in front of the closet door was a large frog with some kind of animal in its mouth.

The clerk's story was a science fiction tale about a man in an office who gets a phone call from a colleague, who tells him that because of an accident, he now has control over all matter. He is a nervous man who had always been belittled by everyone but the office man on the phone, which is why he calls him with the warning. He demonstrates this power, and the office man has to try and come up with a way to defeat him. Since he couldn't defeat him physically, he uses psychology in a very clever way, and the world is saved.

I finished the story and thought it was pretty good. The whole story took place as a phone conversation, with a few added asides from a frightened, motionless woman seated near the office man.

I took the story back down to the desk clerk, and told him that I thought it was good. He asked me if I had read the notes, which I had not, and he pointed out that the voice on the phone character was based on me. Apparently he was a big fan of mine. He had originally sent this story to me and was very excited about getting a critique (his notes reflected this) and I had to tell him that I had never received the story. He was disappointed but was glad that I had finally gotten to read it.

We got to talking about the story, and I mentioned the only part that I would change was one line of dialogue near the end, which I showed him. I told him I would, thus, change the title of the story from "Four Words" to "Seven Words." He began talking about making me a co-author, since the line of dialogue was crucial to the story, and I had improved it greatly; I was unsure about co-author credit, but he was able to convince me.

I then went back to my room, where Jeeves the butler was unpacking things. I asked him to read the story as well, and after a great deal of reluctance, he agreed and sat down to read. It was hard to tell if he was enjoying it or not, he seemed to be making a point of having no expression.

Shortly after that, a pair of middle aged people, who were someone's in-laws, showed up in the main foyer of the room, and the woman insisted that we listen to this group of loud, musical clowns that were parading through the hotel. It is possible the clowns were from France, but I didn't want to look at them and thus, encourage them.

Jeeves and I tried to ignore her, and them as well, but ultimately without success. The noise became overwhelming, and we stopped trying to do anything other than wait for the clowns to leave.