Under Grounds

I had a rather peculiar dream last night. My remembered dreams are few and far between, but when I do get them, they're doozies.

I dreamt that I was a sleeper agent for an unknown conspiracy, or at least one I had no suspicion of being related to at the time. For some reason, I was hiding out at my parents' place. When the agents of authority came knocking, I had to escape, a process which required much stealth and skulking and lying face down in a dry ditch for some time.

When I made my move, it was into the underground canals and tunnels around the Hill of Tin, with the authorities on my tail. I found sanctuary in the depths with a succession of post-Apocalypse coffee shops, cafés and eateries with rather familiar names — Wild Honey with a unicorn, Starbucks with a mermaid, and several others.

I remember that the authorities were thrown back with heavy casualties at the machine-gun fortifications of Killiney Kopi Tiam, and they retreated completely when they realised they would have to face the cannibal baristas of Gloria Jeans, and the nuclear lattés of McDonald's.

Eventually, I was able to re-emerge, after many cautious sorties through the secret vents of the vast Subterranean Mess Rapids Transition system. Or something like that.

Yes, it was quite an interesting dream, this one.