Foreman

I’m inside a skyscraper in a city landscape that stretches so far into the horizon, I get the notion that it covers the entire planet. I am the foreman of a crew of construction workers. I have no idea how far above ground we are, but the building is clearly one of the tallest around.

It’s windy up here because there are no windows yet, and the workers move quietly around, not exactly doing anything. It’s as if they’re just there to assure both themselves and me that the building is there and it’s safe. They all wear silly yellow protective helmets, while mine is white. The building is ‘cut off’ halfway because the bottom half of it is all finished and already in use.

My friend is sitting in a corner of the room, playing his piano. He seems to be having a “moment”. He sways from side to side, slowly, while playing a beautiful, repetitive theme or melody.

From time to time I get a glimpse of people walking into the elevators all the way downstairs. They look like rich people, dressed in fur coats and expensive jewelry. I’m slightly annoyed because I forgot my camera, and I’m supposed to snapshot everyone who gets into the elevators. I also very much want to take photos of the view from up here.

I get a phonecall – from my friend in the corner – which seems a bit odd to me. I start explaining that he doesn’t have to call me on the phone, but he insists that I wouldn’t be able to hear him if he didn’t. The melody is still being played as we speak. We start arguing back and forth, it makes me angry but at the same time I can’t help but laugh because it’s such a weird thing to do; calling me up on the phone from the corner of the room we’re both in.

An elevator has mysteriously made it all the way to the top, but before I get a chance to see who’s in it, I wake up.