The White Shopping Mall

I’ve had recurring dreams since childhood where I return to the same vast, surreal structure—like a shopping mall, but impossibly large. It’s built entirely of white stone or marble, stretching across endless levels. Escalators, lifts, and corridors spiral through it in a kind of architectural maze. All the shops are closed—dark, sealed, or vacant—yet faint elevator-style music plays softly, echoing throughout the space. Despite being abandoned, it feels strangely maintained, like a preserved relic…very backrooms.

I’m with a small group searching for supplies. There’s a sense of post-apocalyptic urgency, but it’s not panicked—more like quiet survival. We mention heading to the cafeteria, which I instinctively know is located in one of the lowest, closest basement levels. I feel confident about the way down, as if I’ve done this before. As we descend, I pick up a single can of beans. The shelves are empty. We feel desperate, but focused.

At some point, I wander from the group and find a strange staircase that leads to nowhere. Beneath it, I notice a narrow crawlspace, just wide enough for me to shuffle through on all fours. The passage is tight and uncomfortable, but I push through. On the other side, the space suddenly opens.

I find myself in a vast hidden chamber—at least four stories high, brightly lit with no visible light source. Around the edges of the room are pairs of people, each quietly huddled together. They come from different cultures—one pair I clearly recall were Orthodox Jewish men rocking in prayer like at the Wailing Wall. None of them speak to me or even acknowledge my presence. They all face a towering glass wall that spans the entire height of the chamber.

Outside the glass is chaos: a blackened sky, fireballs raining down, mountains exploding in the distance. A massive comet crashes into the ground, and I feel a deep rumble beneath my feet, yet the glass doesn’t shatter. The chamber stays silent except for that same eerie, echoing mall music.

In that moment, I realize this structure may not be built into a mountain after all—it might be something else entirely. A spaceship? A hidden base? A simulation? The atmosphere shifts from dreamlike to cosmic. I feel stunned that I was unaware of this devastation until now—as though the mall had been a buffer or veil.

This dream has recurred many times over the years. I always seem to remember my way around. I never feel fear—just the unsettling sensation of returning to something forgotten, as if I’ve walked this path before.