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devil duck

dream journal

I was on my way to a job interview. The interview was in a small town in the hills of Appalachia, so the last leg of the trip was on a small plane -- no more than thirty seats, half of which were empty -- that flew below the clouds, and I enjoyed watching the scenery for this last hop. On the way I got into a discussion with the others on the plane: "Whatever happened to direct flights?" "Well, the deadliest thing for an airline company is empty seats, and I think deregulation in the 1970's forced them into more price competition..." stuff like that.

One of the other passengers was a young woman named Mary who was on her way to a job interview too -- in her case, an interview for a bartending position. "My interview was scheduled for this morning, but they had a couple of other people to interview today, so they moved me later in the day. It's just as well: the more drinks they've had before I serve them, the better!"

Eventually we landed and got off the plane. Two fashionable-looking women in their thirties met Mary at the gate and escorted her to the bar. My own interview wasn't until the next day, so I tagged along for moral support. As we walked, we heard a warm, fatherly voice from above us. A middle-aged man, clean-shaven, wrapped up in blankets from shoulder to foot and with a white towel around his head so he looked rather like a mummy, was being carried on a gurney suspended from the ceiling in the same direction we were going. "Ah, you must be Mary! Dreadfully sorry to miss our interview, but it seems I'm destined to die today. Oh well, can't be helped. Good luck with the interview!"

We got to the high-tech bar, all glass, steel, and colored lights. At each end of the bar was a white sliding door, and the man in the blankets was being set down next to one of these, saying "You might as well use the one on the right," which obligingly opened to reveal a long low passageway with a coffin-like white medical apparatus in it. What happened next was obscured by the welcomes of others on the hiring committee; when next we looked, the man was gone and the door was shut. As Mary stepped to the bar and prepared to show her stuff, the door was mistakenly opened and we saw the man in the blankets, now ensconced in the medical apparatus. It was perfectly silent, but through the glass around his head we could see his face, which appeared to be screaming in agony. Mary fled and I woke up.
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Okay, I think that's a dream I'd rather forget.