Another Dream
On a flight from London to New York on Concorde I am sitting by the window. One of my hands is subconciously picking at the low celing of the plane. I am not giving this any thought. Upon landing, as we are being ushered out, the captain and stewards are pointing at, and talking about, the huge gaping hole that i have picked, which has spread to the wing. I act coy, and walking off the plane. On the journey back from New York I do it again, and again on another journey to New York. On returning to London a second time, the captain asks me to the back of the plane. Thinking I have been caught I prepare to confess. He asks me if I know what is causing holes to appear in the plane and wings. I say I don't know. He then shows me a secret room in the tail of the plane, a glass walled room he says is 'full of pressure'. He says it is the secret to making the only supersonic passenger jet in the world. He asks me to travel in this room, to help him find out why the holes are appearing. He says that British Airways may have to close if the public found out about the holes. He says tens of thousands could lose their jobs. He says the wing could fall off next time. Overwhelmed by guilt I admit to picking holes in the plane. He is sympathetic, and I feel relieved. He promises not to tell anyone else. He asks me to tow the plane into its hanger for him. Single handedly I do this. Just as I am about to leave the hanger he gathers all of the planes staff with me, together in a semi-cirle. He announces that he knows whats been causing holes in the plane, and that it is the fault of someone in the hanger. I start to panic. I then realise this is a dream. I start to ponder if I should wake up. I wait until he is just about to say my name, and I wake up.
