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Description
This was part of a dream I had on the 24th September. The sequence was only about 10 minutes long. It began with me and my family riding in/on one of these rusted flying maintenance skiffs over a vast industrial landscape – black concrete striated with brown, oily rivers of chemical run-off. The dark, angular landscape was studded with tall, black chimneys that spewed oily brown smoke.

The skiff wasn’t ours- we were probably running from someone and hijacked it. We were definitely in a hurry. Me and a sister were riding on the top and the parents and other sister were inside, driving. The industrial plain had an acrid stench of metal and oil that burned the nose and eyes. The smoke from the chimneys was almost completely opaque, and while swerving around them we hit the top of another, obscured by smoke. The impact threw the skiff forward, we were all nearly thrown off. The engines whined as we tried to re-stabilise it, but before we could level out, we slammed into another chimney. The skiff ricocheted and spun uncontrollably as it headed downward. I managed to jump and land hands-first into the black concrete, my body crumpling to absorb the fall. The rest of the family were not so lucky. They, along with the skiff, landed in the oily channel, and were carried by the strong current. I tried to run along the edge to pull them out, but the concrete was wet and slippery. The family were having trouble finding a holdfast, scrambling hopelessly at the oily walls of the channels for something to hold on to. No luck. The last I saw of them was their terrified faces as they were sucked down into the runoff sewer.
Screaming for me to help them.

Description
This was part of a dream I had on the 24th September. The sequence was only about 10 minutes long. It began with me and my family riding in/on one of these rusted flying maintenance skiffs over a vast industrial landscape – black concrete striated with brown, oily rivers of chemical run-off. The dark, angular landscape was studded with tall, black chimneys that spewed oily brown smoke.

The skiff wasn’t ours- we were probably running from someone and hijacked it. We were definitely in a hurry. Me and a sister were riding on the top and the parents and other sister were inside, driving. The industrial plain had an acrid stench of metal and oil that burned the nose and eyes. The smoke from the chimneys was almost completely opaque, and while swerving around them we hit the top of another, obscured by smoke. The impact threw the skiff forward, we were all nearly thrown off. The engines whined as we tried to re-stabilise it, but before we could level out, we slammed into another chimney. The skiff ricocheted and spun uncontrollably as it headed downward. I managed to jump and land hands-first into the black concrete, my body crumpling to absorb the fall. The rest of the family were not so lucky. They, along with the skiff, landed in the oily channel, and were carried by the strong current. I tried to run along the edge to pull them out, but the concrete was wet and slippery. The family were having trouble finding a holdfast, scrambling hopelessly at the oily walls of the channels for something to hold on to. No luck. The last I saw of them was their terrified faces as they were sucked down into the runoff sewer.
Screaming for me to help them.