. . . . in which i’m at the airport with my partner and we get randomly selected to take part in an exercise . . . we are in a large open space, roughly square, at one side of it, talking to an airline representative, who stands behind a desk . . . the opposite wall is one large window that looks out onto other concrete structures . . . i feel that we are in danger, but the overall tone is one of calm . . . it becomes apparent that the exercise is some kind of shooting, which takes place out of sight further along the building in a corridor . . . i duck behind the desk, but it is over quickly . . . i understand that the exercise was to neutralize some hostile group . . . i’m relieved that it is over, but the representative tells me that we must now proceed to another part of the airport to repeat the exercise in another large square open space, which i now understand is a ‘ghostery’ . . . it seems however that the original exercise has gone wrong . . . bullets start flying in from the side, through the giant window, though no one is visible . . . i feel that it must be over . . . .
ghosteries