John Wise

I am in a field, walking toward an enormous object. It is a spaceship shaped like a giant flattened pumpkin– its camouflage. I am lured inside as I ask someone what it looks like inside; I’m told it is just like the farmlands of Pennsylvania where the Amish live. I venture inside; it looks nothing like farmland. It looks like a high-tech version of the cave-turned-hotel room in New Mexico called Kokopelli’s Inn. It is dark and difficult to distinguish features. Three of us entered the craft and I’m aware that we’ve been tricked into entering, which can only imply something sinister is at hand. The angst is because this is a place where whatever lives here eats people. Emerging from the shadows but still lacking definition is the creature. It reassures us, but the fact remains we are likely to be food. As we follow the creature, we come across skeletons of former meals, which only heightens the anxiety. Occasionally, we can see outlines of the creature; it looks friendly enough, so we determine that it is best not to be afraid and find a way to befriend the creature so we may not end up on the menu. After a short while of guessing what will be dining on us, a picture begins to come together; this thing is really too fun and huggable, looking to be a menacing man-eater. It is a cross between Solly from Monsters Inc. and the cat bus from Totoro. At once, I’m intrigued and horrified that this overgrown cartoon might ultimately decide to launch on us. We continue talking politely with the creature, sharing why it has to eat people while we try to concoct stories about how it doesn’t want to eat us but that we could help it get others. This seems futile as I realize that others have probably already entered into this relationship; that is why I was told the interior of the giant pumpkin looked like beautiful farmlands. The dream starts to loop into an impossible hope against the reality of being eaten or surviving. I awake.