In Dream...#3

It is night. I drive into the parking lot of a multiplex movie theater that I recognize. I want to gauge my bearings. The lot is surrounding by a huge shadowy hedge, so I can't make out the streets. I exit my car to ask directions in the movie theater. The concession stands are empty but well-lit and well-stocked. Fresh popcorn is popping. No one mans the cash registers. There are five double-door entrances to the five movie theaters. 

I enter the movie theater to the far left, by the door leading to the parking lot. The movie is playing, but it is not familiar. There are a few people scattered throughout the huge seating area. I walk along the empty back row till I reach the other side, where a red curtain sways under a blast from the air-conditioner. The drapes part and I see another theater next door, a duplicate of this theater. I enter that theater, hoping for a familiar movie, but the lights go on. The movie just ended. I sit in the back row and wait for the next screening. 

Somehow, I know the theater is about to close, so I retrace my path back to the parking lot. My car is gone. I walk through the hedge until I reach the street. I wait for the bus. It comes quickly but its marquee has no destination listed, only a number 111. I ask the driver is this bus is headed to L.A. He nods yes. I don't believe him, but I decide to sit down. The aisle leading to my seat is too long for such a small bus. The farther back I walk, the more young people I see vandalizing the seats. I ring the bell to signal I want to get off the bus. 

The bus pulls over, and I get off. Those damn hedges reach all the way over here. No wonder I lost my car. I walk through the hedges and enter the same parking lot. There's one car parked in the lot. It's not my car, but my car key works to start the engine. I am low on gas. Once I figure out where I live, I'll know if I need to stop for gas. 

I drive past the bus. The vandals have their faces pressed against the glass, looking at me. I can't seem to pass the bus, no matter what I try. The faces start to protrude through the glass, twists and contorts into other shapes, but their eyes never leave me. That hedge is following me. The gas is almost at empty. It is best to wake up. 

I choose to leave the dream. I am in bed, but I don't recognize the room. At least I'm out of the car. I turn on my right side and dig my head into the pillow. The last thing I see in the bedroom before I leave my dream within a dream is that hedge. At that moment, I know where I am, but it's too late: I'm back in the car, back in the parking lot, the gas tank is on empty. 

The next thing I know is it is morning. Time for coffee. Time to write this down before I forget.