I was back in my hometown. Everything looked different. The run-down stores I used to pass by everyday as a child on my way to school were all gone. All that was left were their foundations, crumbling stones overgrown with weeds and shrubs. The house of a classmate who lived near the school was also gone. Only its framework remained, nearly invisible in the riot of plants that reigned on the small lot. Someone had built a multi-tiered birdhouse in the center of the hulk (using wood from the house) and all kinds of birds and pigeons made it their home.  

There was a new marketplace about a block away. I guess it was built to replace the old stores. I wondered if the old stores had moved there. It was very busy and festive, filled with people. It was orange. The crowd spilled into the streets. It was like a fair. 

We [I don't know who the others were] went inside one of the stores which was a maze of rooms, a game of some sort, like in carnivals. The rooms were painted in two color combinations, half black and half red, half orange and half black, and so on. Each room opened into another but they moved around randomly so that you never knew what the next room was going to be. And they opened in different and weird ways.  

The object of the game was to go through the maze without stepping on the color assigned to you (which also became the color your clothes). If you were Black and your room opened into an orange and black room, the orange half of it being the half the door opened into, then you were okay. But if the door happened to be on the black half, then it was Black on black and you disappeared, swallowed by the color. It was all a matter of luck. 

Then we were back in my apartment and about to go to bed (four people in a small bed) and I noticed that there was water coming down the walls. I went upstairs to investigate (with one of the others, a big, cop-like guy). My neighbor's door was unlocked. Cop-like guy went in. There was a body on the bathroom floor and water was overflowing from the bathtub and sink. "Is he dead?" I asked cop-like. "Yes, quite dead." So I borrowed a couple of my (dead) neighbor's magazines and began reading them in the hallway outside which was now a library. A kid came over and tried to get one that I wasn't reading yet (without asking) but I wouldn't let him. I told him they were evidence and could get contaminated. He said we were in a library and the magazines weren't just for me. I felt ashamed for being selfish.