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Dream: Airport Run

So when I crashed back out because it is the weekend's end and I seem to be stuffing as much sleep as possible into the weekends just because I can, I was in the airport (generic) flying to go see Guide Dog Aunt!

...And after Mama had left, I realized with absolute horror that I had forgotten my purse, which had money and cellphone in it, not to mention ID, leaving me stranded and helpless.

It was the last flight of the night, which put a time crunch on things (including me). Therefore, they did not do the security screening, letting the lot of us on the plane without a trace of X-Ray or pat-down. One of the airport people made some quip about the flight attendants quelling any sign of riot with shotguns. Glad to know that airport people in my dreams have a sense of humor, even if it is a rather dark one.

In my frantic run about the airport, I saw the Harry Potter cast coming down an escalator, and (still stunned) greeted them casually. Then I saw someone who I knew to be a Listee because of the shirt they were wearing (contained an unspecified List joke) looking anxiously up at the escalator. Herself descended, although my mind doesn't have such a good picture of Herself as all that, because clearly Herself is not a wizened old crone half my height and doesn't have that haircut, but you couldn't have told that to my sleeping mind. After finishing my conversation with the Guardian of the Escalator and establishing that it was unlikely as there would be a long line at the only free phone option I was likely to find, I hopped on the escalator (which was now somehow going up instead of down) and zipped up to the inside-security food court level.

For some unknown and bizarre reason, I was distracted by a display of fake fingernails. In buckets, like silverware. No, I don't know why.

I reached in my pocket and discovered that somehow, I had $12. This was a vast improvement in the situation. Then I realized I did not know when my flight was boarding, but it had to be soon, and I was unable to interpret my boarding pass. I had flagged down some random airport employee (somehow the flood court was still lively and occupied) who was mumbling and not making much sense when I woke up.
Gone away, gone ahead,
Echoes roll unanswered.
Empty, open, dusty, dead.
Why have all the Weyrfolk fled?

Where have dragons gone together
Leaving weyrs to wind and weather,
Setting herdbeasts free of tether;
Gone, our safeguards, gone, but whither?

Have they flown to some new weyr
Where cruel Threads some others fear?
Are they worlds away from here?
Why, oh why the empty weyr?

-- "The Question Song", Anne McCaffrey
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