It started with being outside somewhere in an urban area, and I had been keeping up with my friend Lenny.  It was like I had observed him moving through this public area, traversing one side of a city square to the other, toward the right side edge.  Suddenly he disappeared, and then there was a moment where it was like I was observing the situation as if it were a movie of what was occurring, and it was briefly in super-slow-motion.  That gave me some belief in something being ‘up’; I suspected something intentional/organized/deliberate was occurring because of the freeze-frame thing which was concurrent with my buddy’s disappearance. The focus of the movie, just how the shot was framed in that slo-mo moment, was of a particular ordinary/generic fellow who seemed to resemble Lenny’s father, who happened to be walking along through this square at the same time and appeared to be near the front of a small cluster of pedestrians who were all heading in the same direction (left).  I turned to my childhood friend, Warren, just to double-check with him that he had also ‘caught’ that brief anomaly in the footage. He did.  So then I focused again on trying to figure out what had happened to Lenny.  I suspected that he had been ‘disappeared’ by some shady group, the ‘syndicate’ most likely, but at that point I had no proof to support the claim.  To an objective third-party it would seem that I had simply lost track of him as one might easily do if it were a live-action Where’s Waldo type of game, and Waldo had just ‘snuck’ out of the frame.  No damning evidence, no smoking guns, etc.

This whole scene seemed to take place in a British Isles type of geography.  Suddenly I focused on needing to catch a flight back to the States.  I headed to the airport and boarded a plane, which happened quite swiftly as part of a transition.  This plane was quite peculiar in that it was more like an extensive series of rooms, adjacent to one another, connected by doorways.  What was first a small typical airplane-like ‘cabin’ space opened up into rooms you’d expect to see in a grand hotel lounge. There were already many passengers who had occupied the first seats, so I had to keep going deeper into the recesses of this ‘plane’, one room to the next, etc.  I finally found some sparsely populated area, sat down, but then quickly realized that I was right in the smoking section.  Some old guys started lighting up cigarettes; once I caught wind of that I decided I couldn’t endure it for a whole trans-Atlantic flight, so I got up and moved to an open seat that was basically on the border between the non-smoking and smoking section.  I believed I’d still smell some smoke but at least not be immersed in it.  It was an improvement, but obviously not quite ‘prime real estate’ in this whole place.

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