A dream from the other night has stayed with me and I occasionally examine its portents through the day like a new desktop toy.
Most of my dreams take place indoors. When they do occur outside, it is always dark, even during the middle of the day. In this dream, I was flying above the entire Earth. The Earth was sheathed in a thick blanket of clouds, so I did not know what country I flew over or my altitude. Around me was only cold and dark, perhaps of night, perhaps of space.
I descended into the cloud bank, feeling the clamminess of the air passing by. I could see lights below, a city. I worried that my poor understanding of geography had brought me over the Far East, where English was not spoken. I flew closer and alighted on a high balcony on one of the skyscrapers. I was in New York City.
Before the dream ended, I remember going inside through a service entrance and finding myself in the deserted halls of an office building. I remember wanting to call someone to tell them where I was.
