Like a substantial blue ghost flitting across the waves, an empty jeep and caravan on board to remind you of its supposed purpose, the Transport Ferry captures your glance and holds on to it.
Where did they all go? you wonder. Was there a freak storm that washed everyone overboard? Did the Transport Ferry pass through some kind of Bermuda Triangle, absorbing crew and passengers before sending them hurtling to a distant dimension? But it’s 1279 pieces, you think, surely that is a defense against the forces of nature. That tremendous physical presence must account for something.
All that matters, though, is that they are gone and here the Transport Ferry floats ashore. Perhaps the front will open and the cargo will drive itself ashore unassisted. Perhaps afterward it will open its rear hatch to allow further ghost vehicles to also venture to distant places.
Like a dream, a fitful series of images roaring through your mind in the course of a fitful sleep, the ferry dismantles and reconfigures itself as a transport plane. The gut rumbling sound of four enormous propellers tells you it is time to get aboard and take off. To where, you do not know. The captain is missing. Are you supposed to take the yoke? Before you can step forward the lights come on, the door closes and the plane begins its trip down the runway.
You step into the cockpit and look out the window. The propellers are aimed backwards and have shifted position. It’s immediately clear that dream reality has fractured again, the plane morphing into a hovercraft. There’s two vehicles on board this time. Without looking you know they are empty. Without concern you look out the window at the open sea.
As the roll of the ocean settles into your bones you no longer know if you want to wake up or if you’d prefer to drift in this ever shifting dreamscape forever.