I’ve dreamed of the same library or bookstore so many times over the years, I could probably draw a map of its floorplan. I tried writing my phone number down in the dream, so as to give it to a person at the counter so she could call my cell phone just in case this was a real place — but as is typical with dreams, I couldn’t write. I’d carefully draw a 3 and it would turn into a sloppy 5. I’d try rewriting it, until the scrap of paper looked like someone completely illiterate had attempted to write on it. During this writing, I can feel my brain struggling with the contradiction of what I’m intending, and what is appearing on the paper.
The inability to write in dreams was referenced in the film PRIMER, though in that film it was engineers who had traveled through a time machine to the day before lost the ability to write.
There’s a central main corridor with book display tables. Wider than a corridor in that the book display tables are quite wide. Down a few steps, on the right, are cashiers or librarians at counters. The steps have light green carpeting, then tile on the foyer. Off the central main corridor are side rooms with different book genres; these rooms are cramped, and have shelves of dark wood that are about five feet high, while the walls are a light dull green that goes well with the dark wood; I’ve checked one with art books several times — a second open doorway leads to a smaller hallway perpendicular to the main corridor which is similarly dull green plaster walls. The general look of the place is old. Like something from the 1950s that once had dark wood accents, dark wood paneling (and some dull green plaster) — and still does, but everything is a bit worn now. Even the presence of the steps down to the cashier counter is symptomatic of an older location, since handicap rules would make that layout ridiculous today. Another dozen paces and there are doors to a city street, the doors have brass frames. I believe that if you face those doors, behind you, just beyond the four steps up to the main corridor level, to your left there is a staircase that leads up to a second floor. This staircase is almost invisible because it has dark wood paneling (punctuated by views through) all the way up. I think it is just used now by employees. I haven’t tried flying up it. It would be quite a long staircase since the second floor would actually be about where a third floor would be (since the height of this area is higher than single story — more like 1.5 stories. High enough for me to often fly above people’s heads (which the staff of this place really frowns on — I believe I mentioned in this blog a few days ago that at some point they put up a sign with rules that included “no flying”, aimed specifically at me.) There are always many people here. If I had to guess a city, it would be New York.