The Pipers of the Glass Ceiling 


I’m traveling. I stop by a school. A pipe band is playing, visiting from Scotland or France. Small kids in green jumpers sit at a fence and wait. I join them. I talk to the teachers and make jokey innuendos about sporrans and woggles. 
The pipers arrive. A wall means that we cannot see them as they disembark the ferry. They are French, but wear black watch tartan. 
I’m inside a stone, circular building. There is stepped stone seating around the walls. The teacher leading the pipers stands in the middle addressing us and the pipers. One of the pipers makes a quip about how we think they drink a purple cognac. The teacher slaps him hard. A disciplinarian. He calls my name, and asks how their baggage will arrive. I explain that there may be a delay, but that I’m ready to help if he needs it. He seems happy with this. I wonder why he chose me, I’m not a teacher at this school, after all. 
The room empties. I’m left alone with a talented young man, who shows me a gold embossed rice paper scroll that he has illustrated with biblical stories. It’s a beautiful piece of work. We go next door, into an open space with stepped wooden seating. The pipers are chopping wood and demonstrating practical skills. I find a seat, a space where someone else should be. The pipers begin piping. 
I’m taking virtual reality photos. Selfies. The shadows aren’t quite right. I look around and see that I’m in a game, being chased by a robot and a mad scientist. I have the ability to fly, so I rise above them. There’s a glass roof, limiting my freedom. I fly through it. Outside my pursuers follow me. I give them a bag of stuff to recycle. I rise into the sky and head for China and Japan, in the early dawn. 
🇯🇵🇨🇳🇫🇷🤖🛩

 

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