Planes, Trains, and Corn Cribs

They say there's nothing so boring as someone else talking about their dreams, but that's just a chance I'll have to take.

My sleeping subconscious has an airport, and a subway station, and a highway. They are not real locations, but each time they appear in my dreams (which is often - in dreams I am usually in transit) they always look the same. The airport is something that might have been called futuristic in the 1980s; it has a lot of oblong curves and gleaming white plastic. All the flights are international and I think there's only one gate. It would be entirely useless as a real airport. The subway station is somewhere in the East 60s - I don't know how I know this with such certainty, but I do. It is vast, sprawling out in all directions and comprised of many different levels, which are connected by stairs. The highest of these levels is sort of a balcony with a domed roof, like an old fashioned shopping arcade. I am always hurrying up or down the stairs in search of my train. The planes and subways in my dreams can go to all sorts of places, but the highway always leads towards Providence. (Though I never get there. I always get lost on the way.) There is sometimes a train (the real , above-ground kind), which goes to an undefined pretty coastal town on Long Island. And on the rare occasion a bus turns up, it always goes to Kansas City. Which I suppose some would define as a nightmare...

Anyway, I do not have dreams about towns themselves. In my head, towns and cities apparently exist only as homes for terminals and transport hubs. But the other night I dreamed of a no-name, non-existent Connecticut town. Though I was asleep I knew this was a generic, all-purpose town, a universal stand-in just like my airport and subway station. In the morning I remembered the town only sketchily. It had a Main Street full of shops, though I never went in them, and it was maybe somewhat rural. I don't know; it's gone.

But when I woke up I was thinking of corn cribs. Did my phantom town have re-purposed corn cribs, like this little shoe repair place in Wilton? Historically preserved corn cribs? Legitimate working corn cribs, actually full of corn? I may never know...