I was inside a run-down taxi, driving through an empty and desolate suburb made up entirely of cylindrical stucco houses. They all looked exactly the same. I had no idea where we were going, where we were, or why we were passing through this place.

Despite being nestled in between two lush hills, this neighborhood was somehow a desert. Every other house had a “for sale” sign on the front lawn, but even the ones that weren’t for sale were completely empty. The lawn was perfectly manicured even if no one seemed to live there. The driver asked me why every house was on sale, I looked at him baffled, and said I didn’t have an answer.

We kept driving until we were out of that neighborhood and in the city. Eventually, I started recognizing some buildings and calmed down a bit... Until I saw the buildings were being replaced with the cylindrical houses in real time. I told the taxi driver to drive faster before we got turned into a cylinder. He ignored me, but we never turned into cylinders anyway.