The Chamber Of Dreams

Fog.

White, dense clouds. All around me. As far as my sight could take me.

Faces.

Faces appeared around me. Protruded from the chalky white. Familiar faces. Happy faces.

We were in a theme park, I realised.

And as soon as this thought settled in my head, voices erupted out of the blue, slithering in frequencies back and forth.

Voices of children. And families.

And with a snap, as if by magic, a view jumped in front of my eyes.

Water rides!

There was water being splashed everywhere. Coasters diving up and down their platforms. People cheering and running around.

I looked round to my left. An LCD screen had materialised baring a car-racing game. Multiplayer, it was, I saw. One player led the way, with the other trailing behind. Then suddenly, the latter came out of nowhere, full-speed ahead, to beat the former in the final lap of the round.

The victory ensued laughter from one of the players. "Ha! I beat you! Yes!"

It was my sister, I recognised. The other player, it emerged, was my friend Homer.

And then, the scene changed. Their bodies disappeared and gave way for a table occupied by four ladies, clad in black robes. The LCDs stood on the wall behind them.

The next thing I know, I was enraged; walked up to them and yelled at the top of my voice.

"Vacate this table! Immediately!"

They all gave up their cheery gossip, to look at me, shocked.

"You need permission from the management to be able to sit here, which you clearly don't have," said I. "Should I tell the management on you - they'll throw you out, right away!"

"Oh, please, don't!" pleaded the one closest to me. "We were leaving anyway. Just give us a few minutes to clear away..."

Just then, a voice amplified several thousand folds, starts bellowing into my ear. Whether everyone else can hear him, I am not sure.

He was requesting all guests wishing to watch it to return to their rooms, where the film shall be provided on their personal television screens...

"Let's go, Mum," I hear myself shout over the voice from the misty clouds, immediately.

And as if I had wished for it, an elevator drops in front of me, with the thick blankets curling away under its impact.

Doors open. I clamber in, hitting a number as I went.

Ching.

The doors pulled away into a carpeted corridor, held up with polished wooden walls. The fog had disappeared. I ran out, changing directions as if my mind knew where to go and I required absolutely no effort to think.

Left. Right. Left. Left.

And I enter a room whose door stood ajar. My room, I make out. But I am worried, for some reason. There was a bother.

Go to the reception, says a voice in my head.

I do so.

I go back out, and realise I have forgotten the way to the reception.

Left. Right. I speed through corridors after corridors. I even walked a ceiling or two, on the way.

And a face appears out of nowhere.

"Reception?" I enquire from the face.

"Just down there," replies a voice, pointing in front of me.

A staircase appears...and I trot down it, to approach the reception desk, to get them to fix the film that didn't work for me. Bombay Salsa reminds me the name in my head. A gang movie...

*Pop*

And with a whiff, it all vanishes. The hotel. The voices. The theme park. And...

The fog.