Last night, Bob had a crazy dream. He dreamed he and I and another person, who might have been his brother, were standing very still, pretending to be crumbling rocks. The scene was reminiscent of Jean-Jacques Annaud’s 2001 movie, Enemy at the Gates.
We had to stand against the crumbling walls of a devastated city with our eyes closed so no one would see the whites of our eyes. We were trying to blend in with those walls to escape detection by the bad people milling about nearby.
It was up to Bob to figure out where we were going next. Then, he came across a very large box of mushrooms growing in the darkness. He talked us into lying down on the surface of the mushrooms and then closed the lid. He believed that the mycelium would grow up through us, transforming us so that we could pass out of the other side of the box into our next world.
As we lay there, waiting for the threads of the fungus to spread through our bodies, he wavered between panic and the assurance that he had made the right decision. Finally, he could feel the process taking over his body and all that was left to do was wait until we were sucked down out of this place into the next