A Journal of my adventures in the world I inhabit while I'm asleep.
|I'm somewhere in eastern Europe, the land of my ancestors. There is a deep ravine in front of me. At the bottom, maybe two hundred feet down, is a small rocky river. I'm not sure why, but I need to cross the chasm to get to where I'm going.
I see a man nearby, walking down a path that parallels the ravine. I shout out to him, "Can you help me get across?" as I point to the other side of the ravine.
He beckons with his arm, "You follow me!"
I introduce myself; in a thick accent he tells me his name is Mikhail. We walk south a short distance before coming to a large decrepit warehouse.
The building spans the chasm, perched atop thick wooden beams, much like an old covered bridge. I'm not sure why anyone would build a warehouse like this but here it is, with it's rusted metal roof, cracked windows, and clapboard wooden walls that look like they haven't seen paint in fifty years.
Mikhail opens the door an I follow him in. Inside there are stacks and stacks of newspapers, phone books, boxes of papers that appear to be tax records, business receipts, and other similar documents. Some of them appear to be quite old, and most of them are in quite bad shape. Water damage from the leaking roof, termite infestation, and rats nests. As I look around I see several rats scampering through the documents.
"What is all of this paper for?" I ask Mikhail.
"These are records from my town," he responds.
"But they are in such bad condition here, shouldn't they be moved somewhere safe?"
"It does not matter, we have computers and internet. Have digital copies now, these are just old junk."
We walk the long narrow path through the warehouse, on and on, past piles of crumbling paper. We have to be careful where we step, the floor is rotten and there are spaces where boards are missing, you can see all the way down to the river below.
Eventually we get to the other side of the warehouse, the other side of the chasm. I open the door and a couple rats crawl in, brushing against my ankles to enter as Mikhail and I exit the warehouse.
Once outside in the sunlight, I sit down on a nearby stone wall to rest, glad to be across the chasm. Mikhail calls out, "You should move, snakes are near that wall!"
I look down and see a copper-red colored snake within striking distance. Time seems to slow to a crawl. My leg is moving in slow motion as I turn to get away. The snake is moving in slow motion too as it strikes, but it is moving slightly faster than I am. I feel the pain as its fangs sink into my right ankle.
And then I wake up.