August 25th, 2026 by G.
Saturday night, I had a horrifying dream.
There was a city, and either because of the heights of the buildings or because of the hills in the city, the church had a site people could visit where you could walk out on these walkways that were high above the ground, maybe 100 to 200 feet. The walkway started altogether in a little reception area and a flat space, and then branched out and meandered a bit. Each walkway had a color and a spiritual theme assigned to it, and you’re supposed to think about that theme as you walk the walkway. It was a bit low rent, frankly. The walkways were just concrete floors and rough, waist-high, whitewashed concrete walls (white except for the color coding). The view directly down wasn’t anything spectacular, just a couple of layers of road, a freeway, and an overpass.
We were there on a ward trip. Perhaps we had gone to the temple first, or perhaps it was Sunday because we were all in our Sunday best. On the left side of this site, there was a walkway that went up in a ramp and ended, then there was a gap and a walkway on the other side that had no obvious way to get to from where we were.
We were chatting, and we mostly agreed that somewhere in the gap there would be a plane of transition, so that if you leaped off the ramp, you would be winkled over to the other side once you hit the plane.
Later, I look over and up, and see some of the young men on the ramp. One of our teachers, in his Sunday best, runs up the ramp and leaps. He promptly disappears below my view as gravity takes over, but I’m not too concerned because, obviously, the transition plane will extend all the way to the ground; obviously there would be some ballistics, and people would fall as they leaped. So he’ll be fine as long as he has forward momentum in addition to falling, which he does.
But I’m still worried. We are pretty sure there is a plane of transition, but not 100% sure. Trying to leap was foolish. I’m worried, but I can’t tell from the reactions of the people over closer if he made it or not, or if they can even tell. I maneuver around, looking through the gaps and viewings, until finally I see his (naked, oddly) corpse face down below. I cry great, racking sobs.
On Sunday it was still preying on me so I told his mother and him a jokey version of the dream and then grinned and waggled my finger in his face telling him ‘no leaps’ to relieve my mind.
