I was in a crowded cable car with my friend, Jayden. I don’t know which readers live in places with cable cars, or even if they call them that. They are sort of like a tram with the car going down the steep hill pulling, via cables, the car on the rails going up the hill.
In my dream the hill was high and steep. The view was panoramic. The vegetation was lush; the fjord cliffs were high and precipitous. We were almost at the station where we were to alight. Suddenly the cable car stopped. It then began, at first slowly, to go backwards down the track. It gathered speed. We were shooting backwards down the mountain at a terrific speed. Miraculously we reached the bottom and on the flat land the car came to a halt.
The cable car driver got out and had a look around. He then returned to the cable car and came down the back where Jayden and I were sitting. He handed Jayden a towel and asked if he would mind going out and wiping the mud off the tracks.
So Jayden went out, and while he was wiping the mud off the tracks the cable car driver gave me a haircut.
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