I'm working on a team. We aren't aware of the goal, but we do know that we want to attain it. I can't recall any faces, not even my own. We climb a short mountain that leads into a large roofed cave. This part of the journey requires us to remove a headstone covered in Hebrew and use it as a bridge to cross a shallow but dangerous stream that flows through the roofed mountain.
I enter through a door, up many stairs and many other doors until I am in her room. We have never met, but neither of us are surprised nor alarmed that I comfortably start undressing and contemplating what outfit I should wear to the Boston hockey game. Her bedroom is quite large and busy with dressers, a king size bed, and trinkets like glitter spilled all over the floor. Later this room will be filled with water and the roof will be gone.
We show each other the room where we both used to sleep, not together, but separately at different times in our lives. We both preferred the attic, a large mostly empty room. We cuddle up in a nook where the makeshift bed formed its shape and suddenly become aware that we can look down. Below us, an entire city appears. We enter. We are trapped. We wear what they wear and work as they work, and we cannot escape.