Dream XLV

I had newly arrived, through unknown means, to a dark and overcast landscape. There were several stone buildings around me, and low hills and forests in the distance. The sky was largely black, lighter as it neared the horizon.

I had no idea where I was, how I’d got here, or what I should do now. I had no memory of who I was or where I was before I came here.

A group of people who were already there approached me, and told me that this area was a sanctuary for people who had been lost in the same way as I. They had all come through the same experience, and were used to seeing new arrivals. They would take care of me, and do their best to explain how this world works and what I must do to survive. First, they said they had to find a place for me to stay.

With great enthusiasm they discovered that the top floor of a huge tower nearby was unoccupied, and they said that I could live there.

The structure itself was about seventy-five yards across, and about two hundred yards tall. It appeared to be carved out of some unimaginatively large boulder—it was all of a piece, with a few cracks here and there but no hint of construction. It was cold to the touch and had a few lonely patches of moss dotting the sides.

When I went inside through the doorway, I saw that the only means to get to the top floor was a narrow bridge with no side railings and no means to turn around.

I was afraid of heights and of falling, but I decided that the best course was to grit my teeth and get it over with. So I started walking rapidly up the angled walkway, trying not to look down or indeed anywhere else other than the distant top floor.

Shortly after completing the first third, the bridge suddenly became even narrower. I felt fear seize my heart, but I continued on, more and more nervous. Finally, after a few more paces, the floor became a grid-like structure, with large holes cut into the stone.

This was too much for me. I carefully lowered myself until I was flat against the walkway, and began crawling up slowly, hugging the cold stone. I was miserable, close to tears.

Above me, I suddenly could detect the sounds of distant voices, coming toward me. It was the people who had taken me in; they were quite cheerfully discussing how they’d made the top floor livable for me, and how they hoped I would like it, and so on.

As I heard them approach, the path in front of me suddenly began shifting. The inner core of the walkway started to rotate upward; the path would soon be impassable. I knew I had to act quickly.

I inched forward and used all my strength to force the center core back into the path frame. I moved to the side of the path, holding for dear life, and held the walkway together by pressing my arms toward one another through the top and bottom surfaces. Moments later, the people I’d heard passed over the walkway, again talking about how they were anxious to get to know me and help me adjust, and how they hoped I would enjoy it here. They walked over the part I was holding together and passed on without seeing me. Soon their voices were muffled as they reached the end of the walkway and passed outside.

I released my hold on the walkway core, and it remained in place. As I crawled back on to the top, I was filled with happiness knowing that I was among good friends. I stood on the narrow pathway and faced the way forward, knowing that I was going to have to conquer my fears to be worthy of my place here, and the friendship of the people who had taken me in.