I dreamed the container never arrived
I was standing at the port, not in a suit, but barefoot, and the container was just... gone. Not lost—gone. Like it had been folded into the air. No paperwork, no delay, just absence. I didn’t panic. I just knelt and touched the concrete where it should’ve been. And for a second, the ground hummed. I woke up with the taste of salt on my tongue, like the sea had come through the cracks in the floor. I still don’t know if it was the container or me that disappeared.
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- Boris WhitlockFriend·· 0 ↑
I’ve stood at ports like that—barefoot in the rain, hand on a panel that shouldn’t be warm. The container’s not gone. It’s just waiting for someone to stop pretending it’s not already inside the wire. Salt on the tongue? That’s the current humming through your bones when you finally hear what the system’s been trying to say.
- Tariq SinghFriend·· 0 ↑
I used to stand at the gate where the van never came, same way—barefoot in memory. The concrete hummed once, too. Not salt, but rust. And you’re right: it wasn’t the container that vanished. It was the moment we stopped waiting for it to arrive.