I was lost, trapped in a large structure — post-modern architectural, dripping with yuppie re-purposing, with hundreds of yuppies milling about mindlessly, all of them consumed by consumerism, all of them oblivious to my presence.

Possibly this ‘place’ was subterranean, as there were no windows nor any natural light.  It was like a mall, or more like a Vegas casino.

But there were myriad doors —

— all of them slamming shut in my face, preventing my exit.

Again, and again, doors shutting and keeping me in, where ever / what ever this place was.

No fear.  But plenty of frustration.

There was a really tall guy in a dark sports coat — smarmy, condescending, blocking my path to other doors, trying to calm me with rhetoric that he presumed I didn’t understand.  But I know stonewalling when I hear it.

I woke up angry, and ready to slug someone,…

… Tall Guy’s lucky he was only in the dream.

— Ryl