The Conveyor Belt Dream

This dream is much more diabolical than anything the world has ever seen, or at least right up there with the rest of the diabolical stuff. It is not, as Lack Thereof, who has most frequently reviewed this story to this very date (that was a joke because there is only one review at the time of my writing this), expertly titled the last recorded dream, linear. In fact, it does not seem to follow any pattern whatsoever, a fact that makes it not so dissimilar to reality. But, do not be put off- it is just as bizarre (as the last dream, not reality). I would finish off this paragraph with a few lines of maniacal laughter, but I've already fulfilled my quota for words that end with “-cal” when I used the word “diabolical” twice (or now, I suppose, three times), and I wouldn't want to risk catching the attention of the Inquisition. So, I guess I'll instead end it with a pretty lame catchphrase that serves also as the title of a song by Aerosmith. So... dream on!

This dream was set in an airport, or at least I think it was an airport, because it had one of those “moving sidewalk” conveyor belt-type things. Under normal circumstances, I would have just sighed and stepped onto the conveyor belt, thinking to myself how I quite enjoyed technology's elimination of normal bodily functions, or in this case walking. However, this was not one of those circumstances, for lack of the inspiration needed to describe something in a non-clichéd manner. This was, in fact, during a dream, a situation in which thought is altogether unnecessary. Also, there were several raggedy “sk8ter punk”-type people doing something that most would find at least partially distracting on the conveyor belt, rather than using it for its intended purpose of transporting people from one point to another or of making old people feel outdated.

The strange act that they were performing was this: they would ride the conveyor belt on their bellies, and upon reaching the end, they would be sucked down into the crack at the end, disappear for a moment, and then emerge from the other side to ride it anew.

I didn't know exactly what it was at the time, but there was something about this that made me feel a bit edgy. I tried calling to them to make them stop, but they were too busy having fun to listen.

It was not until one of the not-entirely-anorexic (if you know what I mean) conveyor riders attempted this feat that my fears were realized. First, he was sucked down into the bowels of this great machine. I began to feel somewhat anxious when he did not emerge immediately (patience in dreams is, I suppose, overrated), and my anxiety increased exponentially when five other riders went in after him. None of them came out.

Though I don't quite understand why exactly he should be the one of the riders to clog up the machine, as none of the others would realistically be able to fit in anyway, but that is what I perceived had happened, and that is all that I remember before waking.