Fragments Of My Dreams Episode 11 – Radio Station News

It has been raining heavily for days, somewhere in the future.  It has to be somewhere in the future because I don’t recognize some of the locations.  I do however recognize one location, the usual walk to the bus station that reminds me of my school days back in Hong Kong.  This time is for work.

It is an early morning but yet the overcast is so overwhelming that the rain has removed most of the colors around us, leaving scenes of black and white.  I was running to the bus stop.  But why?  I don’t know.  Since young I have been running to that bus stop almost every day.

Along comes Francis, my old friend.  And he is walking while I was running (but how?).  We exchange a smile and he asks, “Which bus are you taking?”  “23B.  You?” I reply.  The freshness of the cool air fills my lung as I speak.  “Me too,” he said.  There is something about his smile that seems to radiate in yet another rainy morning.  “But why 23B?” I ask (apparently, even in my dream I remember there are bus 23 and bus 23A too).  Before Francis can answer, one bus zooms pass us and we run (or at least I run).  The bus driver at the last moment sees us approaching the bus stop and he brakes hard.  No, it is 23A.  His look of haggardness I manage to get a glimpse of and the bus jerks forward as the driver steps onto the gas pedal.

“It is raining so I prefer a shorter ride,” Francis replies.  That’s true.  23, 23A, and 23B with a similar set of destinations all take a slight different route.

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I work in a radio station, apparently.  By the time I arrive, my colleague has already been on air talking about the unsung heroes behind the fire inspection work within our city.  Shelves and shelves of archived materials packaged in DVD casing, you wouldn’t expect a radio station that looks like this, would you?  “Too many news on the financial world these days.  It is gloomy, just like our rain,” my colleague once said to me.  I agree with her.  How often do we report on what and who sustains our city?  On how this city works?  How few of us are there to inspect the buildings one after another, day after day, month after month?  And when we reach the end, the cycle begins again?

I am curious on when the fire inspector will next visit my home in Singapore and as I search through the entire digital database of inspection schedule, I hear my colleague continues on air, “Due to the heavy rain this morning, the bus companies are dispatching buses from the terminals in a shorter interval.  The rain however seems to have stopped.  Have a nice day.”

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2008.10.26 – My dream ended with I fighting a flying cockroach triple its usual size with a can of insecticide much smaller than what you see on the street.  And I do not know how to link that ending to my entire dream.