You might assume that I had no dreams in this place. I wouldn’t blame you. Everything I have told you so far sounds like a dream. A nightmare I have yet to wake up from. But I can assure you, I had dreams.
I went to bed every night, hoping to wake up in a world where people rode cars instead of pipes. Instead, I had nightmares about the man who brought me here. This figure, in his impeccably tailored and secretive suit, still remains a mystery to me. His motives remain unknown to this day.
I had visions of what seemed like an underground bunker or facility of some sort. The man paced up and down the corridors. I followed him. And then the same thing would always happen. The ceiling and walls started to cave in, rounding themselves into the perfect circumference of a circle big, enough to hold the height of a single individual. And I could see him from afar, this time approaching me and walking steadily towards me. His face was unknowable, it was so bright, reflecting off the light like a mirrored surface. The walls continued to obey the curvature laws of this world until I was no more. I woke up in panic to the roaring sound of floating pipes.
You are currently traveling through the 1990s nightmare of Pipedreams. Each narrative fragment in this collection unravels a peculiar memory of a man drawn into an alternate reality by a looming figure in a suit. In this world, the mundane is flipped on its head as giant pipes carry more than just water. These tales offer a glimpse into this bizarre dimension, both infinitely monotonous and threatening at once. Based on a true story.