\input setup
\centerline{\largest Dream Sequence}
\centerline{Andrew Marc Greene}
\centerline{21.760}
\vskip 1in

I board a red, stubby bus and go to the back of it. We're driving
along and I notice another bus behind us, with melted cheese on its
front.  We're going down a hill and the other bus is picking up speed
as if to pass us.  But there's not enough room to, so it tips over and
falls on its side.  We stop and our driver goes to see if they need
help; I use the MIT 5ESS phone next to me to call 9-911 but I can't
make out what the operator is saying.  We're driving away, anyway, so
I give up.  We're not sure where we are --- the streets look like
Fresh Meadows, but this is Boston.  Then, on one of these residential
streets, we find ourselves next to the Pru.  ``Oh, I can get back to
MIT from here!'' exclaims the driver, who proceeds to ``pick a
bridge'' -- but the bridge across the Charles isn't where he expects;
my house is there instead.  I go inside and tell my Mom that we need
to build a bridge through the house; she assents and seems to know
what needs to be done.  ``First,'' she explains, ``we need to mark off
where the bridge should go, with grass of a different color.''  So we
seed part of the front lawn, then into the house, turn to go upstairs
(turning twice more on the stairs themselves), then along the upstairs
hall until we hit Michelle's room.  ``Oh, Michelle would have a fit if
the bridge went through her room,'' says Mom.  ``We'll have to tear
the house down.''

\hrule

The Doonesbury books that Heather and I special-ordered at Downtown
Crossing are ready, so she and I and David Futato go for an afternoon
of shopping.  The stores, though, are in Citicorp Center, New York.
When we're done, we take something like a cross between the Green Line
and a DisneyWorld indoor flume ride and we meet Andreas.  We ask how
his final project is going and he says, ``Fine, fine.''  When we get
to the bottom, we've readched the subway station.  The tracks and
platforms alternate, like the IND at Columbus Circle, but IRT West
Side trains are running along them.  We walk along the platform,
passing a newsstand, but we don't buy anything.  We take the No.~1
train to 42 St/Times Square, where we switch for the Flushing line to
Queens.  The walkways are twisty little passages, and the bottom is
made up of a set of zig-zagging ramps.  David continues along them,
talking about how the train has to enter in F$\sharp$.  I say, ``It
might as well just enter in F;'' and I skip one set of ramps with
Heather.  (The ramps only descend 2 inches anyway.)  Just then, the
train enters in F.  David says, ``Oh, no!  I won't be responsible for
the consequences!'' And immediately, the train is followed by a
monster, switching in from a side track like the northbound F at 5th
Ave/53 St.  The monster is something like God in Star Trek V.  I panic
and we rush onto the 7 train; the monster follows us all the way to
Queens but can't leave the track so we escape and go back to my house.
David goes home; Heather and I are sitting in the living room when the
monster appears through the wall.  We scream and wake my parents, who
are upstairs.  We run up the stairs, the monster doesn't follow
(because of the parents) and the parents offer us chocolate, crackers,
and spearmint gum to calm us down.

I'm in the dentists's chair; my Mom is  there.  I sit up with a cop of
water in my hand and fall out the front of the chair, spilling the
water all over the floor.  The dentist warns me about that.  They
brush my teether with honey-mustarrd toothpaste, and when I try to
rinse my mouth I fall again.  Then my dad enters with a broken air
conditioner.  The dentist's office turns into an air-conditioner
salesroom; the whole wall is covered with AC units and fishtanks with
goldfish.  My Dad demonstrates how the air conditioner is broken, so
the dentist gives him a new one and a goldfish tank.  They talk about
my uncle, then we (Mom + Dad + I) go to the car, with my sister in the
back seat with my Dad.

We're driving along and my Dad jumps out at a red light to buy a
newspaper.  The light turns green and my Mom starts driving --- ``It's
the law, can't stop, can't pull over.''  Dad is running to try to
catch ius.  He gets closer with each red light.  Finally, he lunges
and catches the door handle as the car starts again.  I lean over the
seat and lower the window so he can get a better grip; then I open the
door so he can climb in.  He thanks me; I ask if he's OK and he says
``Yes'' and closes the door.  I remember that I need to mail something
and I see a mailbox but I'm afraid to get out to mail it, so I don't.

\end