This is a dream I had recently. I call it Continuity Error.
I’m in my girlfriend’s office. She has shown me a picture of her real office, but this looks nothing like that. It’s lunch time. I’m told to wait at her desk until she comes back from the cafeteria.
When she returns from lunch she ignores me and sits together with the other women from her office and proceeds to eat ramen noodles with them. They are all dressed in the same fashion: 1950’s or early 60’s American collegiate style updated for modern times – single-colour, pleated skirts cut fairly high, knee-high leggings, tight sweaters, heels and thick hairbands. My girlfriend’s skirt is green.
I wander over to one of the computers they use for analyzing data on various materials they produce. As I sit some men from the office come over and start talking about the difference in colours between one sample and another, voicing their disapproval of the inferior one. After they leave, another man approaches. I can sense he wishes to speak to me, but he chooses not to. He has a kindly, round face, and inch-long black hair spiked forward at a 45° angle with the aid of gel. He is dressed impeccably in a purple, velvet, 3-piece suit complete with gold pocket watch and chain.
I decide to get some coffee from a vending machine out in the foyer…
And now I’m in a subway or train station. The walls are constructed from red brick. I’m still looking for coffee and I see some vending machines, but my concern has been diverted to something else. There’s something important I’m involved in, but I… ah, right…
I’m now in a forest and the member of an alliance which is about to cross paths with a group of enemies who were once our allies. We’re all dressed in ragged, black, military style clothing and carrying guns, and when we enter a clearing our enemies appear. Their appearance is the same as ours. There’s a sense of relief for some reason, but there’s no time for that…
Because it’s time to climb a giant wall, which crosses the entire landscape. The wall is perched atop a ridge that splits a vast valley of grassland. When I reach the top I am in a world like that which one would find in a Warcraft game. Looking down, I can see, massed on the other side of the wall, an ocean like horde of dark soldiers and beasts. I look to my left and there stands one of our great captains, looking resplendent in shivering blue armor. To my right is another of our great leaders, he in magnificent dark-orange plate.
The three of us know that the battle will be lost, but we decide to launch an attack instead of preparing defenses, in the hopes that as we fight, the wall will hold long enough for those inhabiting the lands behind us to flee.
The battle begins. It is my task to circle behind the horde with my knights and attack from the rear. We do so, and for a while I am successfully hacking and slashing my way through the rearguard of the enemy. But, as we knew them to be, our efforts were not enough.
Later, I find myself among a group of survivors pouring over maps, trying to figure out where we might find safe haven. We decide to take a long forgotten road south to the sea and then cross by sail to the Southlands. As the dream ends, we linger, looking at a map, knowing with anger, regret and sadness that the beautiful lands behind us, our homes, will soon be overrun by the barbarous horde.
The Lackey 