A MATTER OF PERSPECTIVE

I am in a very strange Dr. Who type setting, with black lines of varying thickness running along a white floor. I step on one and realize that the lines are actually about a foot lower than the floor, and I begin to walk them. Up one cross over and down the other. Along the way are almost-seen, but never quite solid objects. Suddenly, it occurs to me, as though I'm seeing myself from a higher vantage point, that I am walking within a gigantic bar code! Or perhaps I have become microscopic and become incorporated into one. The Doctor is constantly on my mind as I continue walking...

Now I find myself in what feels like a very old-fashioned 1940's type hotel. I am walking into a lavishly decorated ballroom - rich red walls set off with gold, huge crystal chandeliers, polished floor, small round tables set with sparkling glassware - at the end of which is a large orchestra pit. Musicians are walking in and taking their places. Almost automatically, I scan their faces for my father, because I recall him playing in these big band groups before, and here he would have played his saxophone and clarinet, instead of his cello. He is not here, and I feel disappointed.

There is tension among the musicians and among the staff. I get the impression that I have walked into a hornet's nest of some sort, and yet that's exactly what I'm to do, since I'm some sort of spy or secret agent.

Eventually, people begin to come in and the ballroom becomes filled with patrons a-glittering in their jewels and ball gowns and evening suits. I drift around taking note of details, such as the fact that the floor is now changed. It looks like half of it is wet and dark red. I wonder if something was spilled, and then realize that it's only the polish on the tiles. Somehow it changed from wood to tiles of dark burgundy red. It seems significant to me to note this.

I find a corner where I'm in the shadows, and in spite of my best efforts to stay awake, I realize that I'm falling asleep - and begin my out of body process. In seconds I am outside of myself and floating around the ballroom, even while I see myself slumped over the table. I come closer to myself and somehow find myself entangled in the tablecloth for a moment. "This is ridiculous - I pass through everything like smoke!" I think to myself, and immediately do just that. Taking up a vantage point wrapped around one of the chandeliers, I watch and listen to the proceedings...