tonight’s dream

I am a member of a large touring band of some sort. It’s the size of an orchestra but I don’t remember it having the instruments of an orchestra. Perhaps it’s a jazz or swing orchestra. In any case, I don’t play an instrument; I seem to be there in a purely administrative capacity.

We are in Canada. The band has been given a large, derelict shopping mall to rehearse in. The architecture seems to date to the 1980s, but the building was not well-designed and has been declared unsafe. The band is not even allowed inside the building; we rehearse in a semi-covered outdoor cafe on the exterior of the mall.

In the middle of a number, the store next to the outdoor cafe explodes from a gas leak. Glass showers outward into the parking lot. The authorities arrive and shoo the band away from the ruined exterior.

I note that the jagged hole in the store’s glass facade resembles the maple leaf of the Canadian flag.  I pull a musician aside to point it out to him.  Not only does he not find this funny, he has a hard time seeing the resemblance.

Men in grey suits and fedoras (these guys, actually, now that I think of it) show up to investigate the explosion. I suddenly remember that I’ve left something inside the mall and go in to get it, in spite of the fact that one of the stores just exploded. No one stops me — they have more important things to do.