18

 I am one of a large force of men and women: we are being trained for a battle. Looking out the window of an enormous transport ship, seeing a white submarine of hallucinatory clarity. More preparations for war: huge machines, assembly lines. A transport system breaks down and a huge part swings from a cable, like a pendulum, crashing into a conveyor of other parts. All this inside a warehouse or hangar-like structure. At the end, returning (as if from another part of my life) and climbing a stairway to what I know is the entrance to the transport: I discover a new wall thrown across the opening with a large, coffered Dutch door set into it, no doorknob. The door is unpainted, fresh wood, the wall freshly plastered. I cannot pass...
 A darkened shopping center, like Los Altos. I am going from store to store but all are closed. I see one ahead and go inside. It's a bookstore, brightly lit, at the end of the row of buildings. As I am browsing, I see Goff and avoid him by going outside. I start back to my car, but find myself in a darkened passageway, dank and old, a decrepit hallway. I push through the last door on the left and enter a small, twisted room (low ceiling, plaster swelling off the dank walls). A large cast iron tub is filled to the brim with cold water, and on the shelf above, an old clock radio is playing music. An eerie and haunted feeling overcomes me, the music macabre and slow...
 I leave work and walk past typesetting machines set out like Cadillacs in a showroom, the typists working away, replacing fonts. Walking home, I pass Dinah in a large van parked at the curb, the side panel open. She is dressed in white overalls, training a large television camera at Betty's apartment doorstep. Dinah tells me that I had to go back and finish some menial chore (I compare it mentally to mowing her lawn) and I say, "I was hired as an artist, I don't have to do that shit"...