Posted by: normanlgreen | September 14, 2011

Dream, September 14, 2011 bank holiday


A crowded meeting comes to a recess. I feel the need to leave the building to clear my head. I get into a car in a parking lot and drive between cars and many pedestrians toward an arterial road.

It is summertime and the sun is high in the sky. Crowds of people mill about near every street corner. Everyone looks seedy, uncertain and ready to take any action necessary to survive. There is a deep financial crisis, and everyone is looking out for themselves. I manage to turn the corner at the main street, but the people are thick as flies. I abandon the car and join the foot traffic. I step from the curb when the cross walk light changes in my favor, but there are so many determined people heading toward me and filling the perpendicular street, that I can make no progress.

At last the flow in the opposite direction thins enough for me to cross. By this time I have collected an older gentleman what has decided he can trust me with his inside information. He, in his long tan coat, leans toward me to quietly fill me in as we work our way through the busy sidewalks. He is very interested in a banking holiday that has been declared by the government and the private banking companies. “It’s a Jewish holiday.” he declares. Oh boy, I think, here it comes. “It is,” he confirms. “Think about it. Who is taking this holiday? And what will they be doing, while all business is at a standstill?” We have come to a building with a series of street level windows looking in on a room filled with old reel style computers.  There are a handful of pleasant-looking people working and chatting in an avenue between two rows of these old Univac machines.  One woman with curly dark hair loads a spool onto a computer and chats with her friends.  The glass is so thick, that their voices are inaudible. The workers have long tables spaced along the passageway.  The old man says, “I hope they get good and drunk on their holiday.”  There are glasses on the tables — these might contain wine.  He tests a glass door to one side of their work area.  It opens for him, and he slips inside.  I dodge into the next building hoping to find a telephone so I can call for help — I suspect that he is going to make trouble and hope that he is not well- equiped to create a disaster.

waking words: an elephant in walking clothes.

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