I am in a damp, rotting, wooden building. I walk through an auditorium, full of people in tight, skin toned morph suits, that emphasise their muscles with drawn on shadows. I walk up some steps. The people have become the auditorium.
The steps are breathing, a collage of eyes, faces and other body parts stare at me as I climb them.
Slowly, the breathing steps fade into rotten wooden steps, racing green paint with visible mould.
At the top of the steps, a roof. Made of glass and rotting wood. I lift out a section. It rolls downhill. I climb out, naked, and stare into the rain.
Beyond a wall I can hear people shouting. I am amazed at how real it seems. I’m not sure that I am dreaming. Someone walks through a wall. That’s my signal. I walk through the small wall. It stops raining. Most of the people vanish. I see someone I know and hug him. His heart lights up, glowing pixels visible on his chest. I hug someone else. They spread the hug until everyone’s pixel heart is glowing.
I run through a gate and fly, singing a song about the joys of this digital reality.
I wake up in a shed. It was a dream. I go back to the task in hand, trying to develop a self-cleaning Roomba.