I didn't get up to write this one down, so it's somewhat muddled, and the fine points lost. But the world was old and broken, and my dream people were all running cable, huge spools of fiber painstakingly unrolled by hand. Splice to the next spool and keep walking. One made her way by foot across Siberia, others headed different direction. The goal with all the cables was to re-establish contact, but all that happened was they moved farther away from each other, until it was far too late to make their ways back to each other, and they died, alone, their tasks unfinished.