The Airport

   Dream Journal

I WAS AT GAMSTON AIRPORT in my top floor office overlooking the aircraft maintenance hangar, but I wasn’t at work—I was a pupil at school! All the children, including myself, were wearing red uniforms. My friend, Chris, drew a picture of a double-decker bus. I started to draw passengers on it. I took the teacher to the door. I warned her that if anyone tried to use the door, and the stairs leading down to the hangar, they would be killed by a helicopter’s rotor blades that were spinning at full speed. Then I realised I was grown up and didn’t need to be at school, so I left.

The next day, I was back in my office at Gamston Airport, but this time I was grown up. I was walking around the office gathering up aircraft logbooks. Then I sat at my desk entering flight times from a big pile of log sheets. I started to rearrange the office, moving the desks around. My workmate, John, was there. He was happy I had come back to work at the airport. While I had been gone two other people had done my job—Amy and Paul—both Jehovah’s Witnesses.

My computer was really old. It was running DOS. It had some software on it which displayed publisher record cards from the JW congregation on it. I couldn’t close it down. John said he would buy me a new Windows computer. Just then, a CCTV image appeared on the DOS computer. It showed a brown horse running around on the taxiway outside.

My office began to fill up with workers. It was 4:20 pm and nearly time to go home. They all stood there waiting for the clock to reach 4:30 pm. Stephen, the Watchtower conductor from my last congregation was there. The clock turned 4:30 pm and we all left the office together. We walked around the airport. My workmate, Damien, was walking next to me. He was holding hands with a JW “sister” (not his wife, Linda). As we walked along I saw an abandoned school complex. There was also a row of houses outside of my office. I thought it would be a good idea for me to live there so I would be closer to work.

Then we were in a field. I was riding a bicycle towards a soldier who was firing a gun at me. I was shooting back. I managed to shoot him dead. As he fell to the ground I looked back and saw that all my workmates had turned around and left. I ran back to the airport car park. My work colleagues were driving out of the car park in a long line. I got in a white car and pushed in front of one of them, but I wasn’t able to steer properly and crashed into the gate.