I was in a throng of other people all queueing for to meet a powerful goddess. Beyond the sunken earthen trench in which we stood waiting lay snow on frozen ground. Set into the walls of the trench every few meters were crude cubbyholes fashioned out of unfinished pine logs, some of which I recognized as places I’ve slept rough. To our right and stretching above us reached a tall building clad in dark marble panels. As we stepped forward to be received we passed by a number of glass-doored rooms recently emptied of their inhabitants.
When it was finally my turn to be judged, the goddess swirled around me, prodding at my various bits and weighing my soul against Truth. From her back and the top of her head appeared to rise glimmering tendrils of an infinite, invisible energy. In the room with us were dozens of watching people, the formerly queueing multitudes. The goddess noted my progress in many areas, challenging me to defend my case to become bodhisattva. I pointed out the steps I’ve made toward living a life of virtue and compassion but was found lacking, and shown the door.
I returned briefly to consciousness (discovering there a full and pressing bladder), then fell back asleep. The dreaming continued in a vast subterranean room (which, too, was paneled with slabs of dark marble) where I and a number of others were searching for a propellered flying boat that had been lost at sea. Analyzing satellite photographs and old maps we were scouring the wind-swept seas. From time to time I would also put my ear to a staticky handheld radio, hoping to detect a clue. Out of the white noise lept a single word, one which caused excitement yet confusion among the dozen-odd people individuals there: America.
[ americanifesto / 場黑麥 / jpr / urbanartopia / whorphan ]
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