I woke up this morning from a dream in which I disembarked from an airliner and noticed at the next gate an airplane painted entirely in brown and forest green. Stopping for a moment because of the unusual coloring, I saw a long string of consonants on the fuselage, barely visible because they were in the same brown and green.

“Hm,” I thought.

Well, once inside the terminal, what did I behold but a ticket counter with, on the wall behind it, the same consonants as those I’d seen on the plane. A route map on the wall indicated that this airline went only to Chicago, Kazakhstan and Bangladesh.

But aware that it was not Chicago in which I had only a moment before arrived, and certainly neither Kazakhstan nor Bangladesh, I thought, “Then where am I?”

That’s when I woke up, without finding the answer to my existential question.