Wineland is Our Land

Just woke from a dream that I was living in a high-rise co-op, almost like a hotel but filled with co-oppy sorts. I was visiting a girl in her room, set on a very long corridor with a dozen other apartments. Through talking with her, I disturbed this guy living catty-corner. He came out, stood stock still, started stamping his feet, and slowly turned red. He worked himself into this ridiculously passive-aggressive state in which he confessed, ‘Your voices are bothering me.’ A good friend of mine, about four rooms down, popped his head into the walkway then shuffled out, wondering what the chat was about. Ignoring whiny guy, I kicked over the latter’s cup on the floor and enunciated to him, ‘Are you always this un-assertive? Do you always struggle to tell others what is on your mind?’ Then my friend and I went into his room for some converse and he brought out a handful of seeds of variegated colours – grapeseeds! We discussed how everyone now had to live and reside according to where different strands of grapes could be grown. Wine-grapes formed a foundation for a large sector of the economy now. Did my wine-worshipping ways blow up into the general populace? Tragically, the darkest varieties of grapes could no longer be cultivated, as their seeds & sires had been forever lost due to climate change, and the new environment had restricted the kind of earth & bedrock on which grapes could give a yield. This in turn was controlling the available units of human habitation and where one might legally reside. My friend had strategically planned his housing accordingly, saying he was tired of getting shafted in other co-ops. He gave a long, intelligently delivered, but mostly contradictory explanation of this! He often gifts me with wine when I visit, but alas in the dream we never got that far.