The Reincarnation

David slid into a dream quickly. He found himself back at the movie theater.

This time, a different letter was missing from the theater’s marquee. It spelled out “THIS IS OUR LIFE.” David looked for the missing “Y” but didn’t find it.

The dream auto-played until he was in the projection room. Spent coils of film lay chaotically in two-foot depths, covering the floor. This time, when he saw the man with his head in the projector and walked over to him, jumbles of film trailing his feet, David put his head inside too. Again, his eyes couldn’t see, but his mind’s eye could. It painted the stars and planets he had seen last time, and again it focused on one of the planets, drawing it nearer. David saw the cloud cover of the planet parting, and the brilliant green of its surface. He was with the man in the theater. David’s mind painted John’s face on him. David again felt that he didn’t belong there, but wanted to aid John, who seemed to need David’s help in navigating the foreign terrain.

They landed on the planet’s soil gently, and stood in front of a huge pair of wrought-iron gates. The gates hung on an enormous, two-foot thick fieldstone wall that was fifteen feet high, and stretched as far as they could see in both directions.

When they looked through the gates at the hillside beyond them, the gates opened. Inside the wall, they walked together up the hill. Near the top, they noticed for the first time that they were surveying a cemetery. David knelt down in front of a gravestone, trying to discern what was written there. The gravestone was worn smooth on both sides. He walked to another, feeling the warm granite for any sign of etching on its surface. There was none. He and John inspected dozens of headstones, none of which had anything written on them. They went back to the top of the hill, confused.

From the hilltop’s perspective, they noticed that the cemetery’s wall was circular. As soon as they saw this, though, the walls expanded, extending all the way to the horizon. Squinting their eyes, they looked at the wall, so far away. As soon as they did, it expanded again, eventually receding out of sight. Looking back at the hillside, they noticed that the headstones were arranged neatly into circles as well, stopping a few feet before the top of the hill. The headstones continued in ever-larger circles to the horizon, and then out of sight. It looked like there was a tombstone for every person in the world. There was one headstone right at the top. It, too, was blank. The air was perfectly still. The only smell was that of ozone, and ether.

John seized David’s hand. David was reminded of the violence the man had displayed in the theater in the earlier version he’d had of this dream. Looking down at his hand, though, he could see that John merely grasped it in a handshake. David, in his mind, looked deeply into John’s eyes. Staring intently, and stepping closer to him, he saw movement in them. He drew closer still.

The movement in John’s eyes was a replay of the earlier portion of the dream. In John’s eyes, David saw stars and planets with mist swirling around them as they spun. His mind focused on one of the planets and drew it nearer. David could see the cloud cover parting, and the green color of the landscape. It was breathtakingly beautiful, the serenity of the scene enchanting him. But David didn’t feel he belonged there. He shook John’s hand, then let go. John dissolved in front of him, slowly disappearing from his sight.

David rose from the planet, and saw his dream in reverse. The landscape was obscured by clouds, then he saw the planet from a distance, then more planets and stars. He pulled his head out of the machine in the projection room in the theater.

The man that had previously been there was gone; the floor was bare.