Last Night

     We at the Hierarchy of Morpheus would like to offer you a position as a dream sorter in our human division. The doctors with beaked masks skate on frozen Styx. There are more names for us than anything else. The red-faced children build with sheets of glass. You should think of us as spirits. The fog blows over the ebony tree. We send dreams to all creatures that dream. The wooden clown dances in the sated baby’s fists. We often use coporeals with their squishy brains to do quality control. The coconut falls into the tide pool. As a human division sorter you will lie down somewhere with few distractions and shut your eyes. The boxing kangaroo gives out presents. We will send you dream samples to rate. The adults in children’s clothes roll hoops down the trash heaps. When you get a sample think either “yes” or “no.” The girl in the leotard twirls her ribbon. Yeses will be sent to dreamers. Authors fight with croquet mallets and cricket bats. Noes will be sent back to our facility to be stored, altered, or destroyed. The frog in the boater dances and sings. We expect that you will put in forty hours a week at this activity. The elf leans on the peppermint stick. We frown on overtime. The gaunt, gray man rattles his keys. Overwork ruins our employees. The sky-blue ball with white stars bounces down the stairs. Your pay will be deposited in your account every two weeks. The sad green leaves fall in the sleety rain. Your pay will be commensurate with your previous jobs. The cockroach crawls across the salad. As spirits, we do not have to consume each other to exist. The black-eyed bulldog wants the other dog’s bone. Occasionally the expansion of some spirits causes the annihilation of other spirits. The dreamer saw what squirmed at the bottom of the abyss. They feel no pain. The stars turn on winter evenings.  We do understand that humans need something to live on. The woman with the large breasts sings as she stirs the bowl. Overpaying our employees makes them less likely to do their job well. The raisins spill out of their purple box and onto the chessboard. In former times compensating our corporeal employees was the most difficult task in our operation. The robot spits coins from its abdomen. Nowadays, we have agreements with artificial intelligences. Green and white paper fills the room. They also do not need to consume to exist. The green ball knocks the red ball out of the ring. They do have experience with money. The music box shuddered in the twilight. You do your work. The pointed shoe rang its bell. We inform the artificial intelligence. The jigsaw puzzle scattered on the floor. Your pay is credited to your computerized account. The aardvark and the platypus frolic beneath the sundial. Your wife may have objections to your lying around all the time. The sunny coins rest in the bottom of the bruised wine. Remind her that you are being paid for important work. The striped cats hungrily watch the poet. If she is not convinced we will send one of our agents in a dream. The spotted serpent winds around the crutch. We try not to reveal too much about ourselves to corporeals. The pinball machine falls over with a ring in the desert next to a saguaro. In former times humans had many ideas about us. The ape searches for fleas in his mother’s armpit. Now, many humans deny that we exist. Invisible idols whisper in the rainforest. That is a necessary phase in your growth. The fatherly hand crushes the cloud. Humans we do reveal ourselves to are often called lunatics or visionaries. The brown men shovel up the peppermints. You know how they fare in your world. The blue discs are strung on red and green yarn. Some of us live for thousands of years and know ineffable wisdom. The poppies bloom on the pebbled helix. Others of us live for seconds and have the intelligence of insects. The midges hover over the absinthe. All beings work together to make the unknowable design. Black lozenges fall from rain clouds into fields of maize. Spirits do their part. The honey badger dandled the orange yo-yo. Corporeals do their part. The puppets in pastel taffeta bloodlessly battled. Artificial intelligences do their part. The fire alarm blared in the button factory. Beings we can not even imagine do their part. The octopus caresses the nebula. Without bodies we are not as bound to space as you are. The aurora shines on the equator. We do flow with time. The candlestick telephone rang in the ruined bungalow. Some of us cease. The raggamuffin kicks the globe against the graffiti-covered wall. Some of us are eternal. The alpaca nibbles the chocolate drops. Some beings oppose other beings. The aqua and indigo pennants flutter in the drizzle. Some beings destroy other beings. The orange light sputters in the elevator. It does not matter. The round blade makes heaps of sawdust. The design continues. The crooked hag sweeps the doorstep of the ancient palace. You will get your first dream samples the next time you lie down. The dancing dragons bite each other's tails. Many of our sorters find their first day alarming. Streams of urine flood the gutters. Do not worry. The beetle scuttles on the drifting leaf. You will get used to it. The snow sticks to the woolen mittens. Be active when not working. The orangutan thrusts his thumb through the papaya. Read often. The pepper-spotted moths escape the rosewood casket. It sustains the mind. The scarlet springs screech like owls. Can we welcome you aboard?

      He heard a few measures of classical music, then the buzzer.

      “Wake up, dear! You’re giving your lecture on “Logical Difficulties of the Multiple Universes Model” to the Rationalist Society this morning.”

      Dr. Richard Kregsbaum, professor of physics, began his day.

      He had had a very odd dream.

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