Jigsaw


If you’re like me, when someone wants to share a weird dream, your instinct to is flee.

Start running.

I’m standing in the middle of nowhere with three other men. Barren flatland in all directions. The road stretches straight ahead, falling over the horizon. Dusky brown skies prevail. It’s imperative that one of us has to get home within the next two hours.

Suddenly a car shows up. Not exactly a car. A futuristic transport one-and-a-half lanes in width, no roof, plenty of seating. The driver is a friendly woman who offers us a lift to civilization.

I know what is going on. This is an alien abduction, albeit a benign one. The woman promises that no one will be hurt. I ask her how long it will be because one of us has to be home as soon as possible. One hour, no more than two, she replies.

My companions and I end up in what appears to be a standard issue medical center. Most of the tests are mental: IQ, psychological, whatever. No nasty needles or probes.

I’m aware that they have sedated me but not completely. I act dumb, trying to see who or what is creating this event. I glance sideways at a pretty nurse, like someone at night who detects a faint nebula by looking indirectly from the corner of his eye. The nurse is really a black blob, a humanoid face protruding from its “torso.”

I’m last in line, being lead down a hallway. The tests are over. The man in front of me drops his file; the contents spill out on the carpet.

Trying to be helpful – and also trying to learn more – I stoop down to put the materials back together. One item is a semi-completed jigsaw puzzle, the upper left hand corner. The pieces are large, easy to fit together. But they only reveal part of an abstraction: a random squiggle and one black dot.

The solution of the physical puzzle only uncovers a metaphysical one.