Had my first futuristic dream last night. It seemed so real, vivid. Most striking is how dismal and gray everything looked. No color. No trees. No plants -- anywhere. Concrete all around. A canopy of low-hanging clouds block out the sun. The air was cool, damp, dank.
Toxins have accumulated in the environment -- or so my dream goes -- to the point they've affected 10-15% of the population. Those most sensitive among us have reacted violently.
I'm standing in a parking lot that's surrounded on three sides by the industrial walls of a medical facility, some 3 or 4 stories tall. It seems to be a cross between a hospital and a high-security Psych ward. Gray, dreary skies hang low overhead.
A whoosh of steam startles me. A large, disc-shaped metal plate opens in the middle of the parking lot. Others run away, scattering in all directions. Up from a treatment facility located deep underground rises a grotesque body strapped to a gurney. It hardly looks human, but is.
When the steam clears, two attendants, dressed in white lab coats, wheel the gurney into the building. They take the heavily-sedated patient up to one of the rooms.
No single toxin is responsible for these adverse reactions, but rather an aggregate that has accumulated in the environment over many years. [ How I know this I don't know. You know how dreams are. ]
I need to retrieve something from the room where this new patient was taken.
Drat! I should've fetched it earlier, I think.