Dream Theatre

There is a movie theatre only accessible in sleep. Every night, tens of thousands of people travel there through their dreams.

The lobby is filled with electricity and sound. There are people collecting impossibly snacks and playing absurd games. There is an energy of suspense and warm darkness that resonates from the intricate patterns on the floors and ceilings. It is hard to tell whether these patterns move and vibrate or whether this is simply a trick of the eye.

As you travel down the corridor to the main dome, you discover the wonderful sort of labyrinth that only one’s child-mind could imagine. Mirrors, windows, and inclines play cat and mouse with you. Occasionally you pass showings of films that you have not come to see. Sounds leak out from the doorways. Some films alarm you of soul chilling experiences waiting to be had. Others entice with the promise of fantastic journeys and new frontiers. The door to the main dome invites you to cross the threshold as strange opening slides are projected onto the massive main screen. They are not advertisements. They are optical puzzles. As you stare at them your mind begins to wander until it makes its way into the feature presentation.

Today an interesting twist on disaster movies and environmental documentary. You find yourself and loved ones, evading urban destruction. Your dearest companions comprise a family of eccentric scientists who are attempting to reverse, or at east curb, the strange frequency of sound that you have caused all motor vehicles to make. This sound causes buildings to tip and tumble. Entire cities can be destroyed by a single automobile. Even the honking of a horn can cause a forty story sky scraper to crumple to the ground.

You wake up before you can solve the transportation problem. Perhaps you will return to finish the tale another night. Presuming of course you can remember your way to the dream theatre. m