So I was reading Wired magazine. There was a millionaire from the 1950s who build an underground track underneath his house. This track though was positioned like a thread on a screw, and could the incline could be changed if you wanted the track to be steeper. I had to see this. I went to the house and entered into the basement level. It will filled with young men, hispanic and vietnamese men. They said I could take a tour, that it would be no problem. They said I should wear a helmet. They said it could be dangerous. These men were working on small machines, electronics. I had entered into a work station. There were wires everywhere. A hispanic man in white coat called someone. The owner of the house, an older white woman with pure white hair, came downstairs. She said it shouldn't be a problem. She lead me upstairs. The steps were made of black marble.
Once upstairs, the house was decorated like an old victorian house, paintings hung on the walls salon style. The wood was all dark cherry. The colors deep red and orange. Her daughters and other young people filled the living room. They said I would need to change for the tour of the track. I said no problem. It was getting late so they invited me to spend the night and would give me the tour in the morning. I said no problem.
The next morning, in flannel and boots that didn't quite fit, I awoke in the living room. It was filled with people wearing head phones and wearing all black. I opened a door and inside was a TV station, they were producing some kind of news show. I turned around to ask someone, "I thought this was just a house?" when a young man said it was time to go.
A black guy and white guy in crisp grey suits and grey ties lead me to a caravan of black SUVs. I said I thought the track was underneath the house, I didn't understand where we were going. A young man, with light brown hair, blue shirt and tie, said it would all make sense soon. He sleeves were rolled up, he was talking on a cell phone.
He drove me to a busy mall. Where we in Tokyo? There were screens everywhere, lights, white floors, escalators with silver trim. People in the mall looked closely, news bulletins flashed across the walls. The young man lead me to a "WE SELL GOLD" store. It was small and out of the way of the main foot traffic. There a woman looked me over and told me to step in the back room. There were two other young women. We smelled something funny, and started to have small seizures. We all collapsed on the floor, unable to move. Men who looked like technicians filled the room and said, "We have to check them for prints and wires. No funny business boys, lets make this quick." The woman who owned the gold store looked down on us with suspicion.
We were stripped and redressed. Then it went black. I awoke in room. The walls were TV and computer screens. And a mans head, neck and shoulders were sticking out of the bottom of the floor. I ran over to him screaming, "What the hell is going on? You did this to me! I was awake the whole time, what were they searching for, where am I?" As I looked down I could see he was standing in a tiny hole with key boards all around him. He said, "We had to make sure you were clean." "Clean? what does that mean?" I yelled back. " We had to make sure you were alone. We had to make sure you were free." At the moment the wall opened up, and more men poured out. They said it was time.
I was in a floating air craft carrier. I was getting ready for the drop. I was wearing a special suite and the men were telling me about my latitude and body position I should take as I fell to earth. My tiny craft was getting prepared, and the parachute they said was top notch, it should take the kind of speed I was going to achieve. I said I didn't understand. All I wanted to do was to drive on that track. I think I saw a Top Gear episode about it. They didn't acknolwedge my statements.
I woke up. I was on a terrace. People were eating. The sun was setting and Arabic was being sung. I was in Istanbul. I could see the Hagia Sophia. My eye sight was blurring. Around the terrace was a moat with deep milky blue water. I stepped into the water and wondered how I got there. Then it was like my voice was being projected from the sky. I remember saying, "I didn't want to change the surface, but the foundation." As I said foundation, both from the recording, and my memory, a second voice boomed the word foundation. A mans voice, deep, it was everywhere and also right behind you, as if he was whispering inside your ear. His voice echoed from the buildings. The people eating on the terrace turned at once and looked at me. The vibrations of he voice ran through the water. Then very slowly, he said, "Don't you remember....this is why you are here" I began to float away.
No comments:
Post a Comment