Traveling Bed

The bed rolled down the city street as if it were motorized. It came over a rise and suddenly I was in a flat, industrial wasteland as far a I could see. Large gas holding tanks. Complex, labyrithine pipes winding their way up, down and across. Train tank cars of every color. I had gone too far north. I needed to turn around.

There was no median, just a fence dividing the north and south lanes. Every so often the fence stopped and started up again. There was a break in the traffic heading south just as I came up another break in the fence. Because this was a dream, it was easy for me to grab the fence post and swing the bed in a u-turn to go in the other direction. I was riding the bed back to my hotel.

Jeffrey L Cohen

Jeffrey L Cohen