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Titanic Dream
Dec. 23rd, 2025 02:08 pmI dreamed I was a survivor of the sinking of the Titanic - not the one from 1912, but somehow from another Titanic that met the same tragic fate this year.
I and other survivors were rescued from a small life boat, brought to a large modern airport along the coast, and given some food. Then we were separated and sent to different parts of the airport.
I was on my own in a gate terminal for hours, then a full day; I asked agents at gate desks for information as to what next but none of them had any information. I became worried I'd been forgotten and lost. Then I found someone working at the airport who was an old acquaintance, and at first things to be going better. We talked briefly and pleasantly about events we'd both been to in New Orleans 25 years earlier. He put some effort into making a couple of phone calls to his superiors to try to find out where I should go next, but without luck.
All I had was the clothes I was wearing and a blanket. I'd lost all my paperwork which had gotten waterlogged and disintegrated. So I worried I was in danger because I had no documentation. So I asked the fellow at the desk if he could vouch that when we were in New Orleans I was presumed to be a citizen. He said he couldn't swear that was so. I said I'm not asking you to swear certain knowledge, as you never examined my papers, just that when we were there people were acting like they presumed I was a local. He said "I wouldn't go that far" and his eyes narrowed as he looked at me. I became worried that he was going to turn me in to ICE for a reward since I was undocumented, and I'd be disappeared in some horrible concentration camp.
I backed away from him, and looking around the airport found another acquaintance, a musician from France who often visited New Orleans. I said I survived the sinking of the Titanic, I had nothing and nowhere to go. He said he was about to fly back to Paris, and happened to have a pass for an extra so he could bring me along, and could put me up in his apartment in Paris for a couple of days. I said, yes please, I'd very much appreciate that.
So we flew to Paris, then took the train to where he lived. I was slightly disappointed to find it was in one of the outer arrondissements, far from the historic city center, and the architecture and streets looked to be rather generic modern urbanized suburb. But that was secondary to relief, as I knew at last I was safe.
I and other survivors were rescued from a small life boat, brought to a large modern airport along the coast, and given some food. Then we were separated and sent to different parts of the airport.
I was on my own in a gate terminal for hours, then a full day; I asked agents at gate desks for information as to what next but none of them had any information. I became worried I'd been forgotten and lost. Then I found someone working at the airport who was an old acquaintance, and at first things to be going better. We talked briefly and pleasantly about events we'd both been to in New Orleans 25 years earlier. He put some effort into making a couple of phone calls to his superiors to try to find out where I should go next, but without luck.
All I had was the clothes I was wearing and a blanket. I'd lost all my paperwork which had gotten waterlogged and disintegrated. So I worried I was in danger because I had no documentation. So I asked the fellow at the desk if he could vouch that when we were in New Orleans I was presumed to be a citizen. He said he couldn't swear that was so. I said I'm not asking you to swear certain knowledge, as you never examined my papers, just that when we were there people were acting like they presumed I was a local. He said "I wouldn't go that far" and his eyes narrowed as he looked at me. I became worried that he was going to turn me in to ICE for a reward since I was undocumented, and I'd be disappeared in some horrible concentration camp.
I backed away from him, and looking around the airport found another acquaintance, a musician from France who often visited New Orleans. I said I survived the sinking of the Titanic, I had nothing and nowhere to go. He said he was about to fly back to Paris, and happened to have a pass for an extra so he could bring me along, and could put me up in his apartment in Paris for a couple of days. I said, yes please, I'd very much appreciate that.
So we flew to Paris, then took the train to where he lived. I was slightly disappointed to find it was in one of the outer arrondissements, far from the historic city center, and the architecture and streets looked to be rather generic modern urbanized suburb. But that was secondary to relief, as I knew at last I was safe.
