Apacoplyptipico

Dream from last night:

I was in a writing group in some weird basement room of a large building. Two of my friends were in this group; the others were not known to me. In the middle of our meeting, the lights went off and on, and even the emergency lights went off and on. We decided it was safer to leave, so we headed out into the stairwell. I was in the lead, then remembered I'd left my bags (with my writing) in that room, so I ducked back down and got them. By the time I returned to the stairwell, the last of my group, some old guy, had disappeared through one of the upper level doors. I then realized I had no idea where I'd parked.

I exited into the first parking level, walked around and but couldn't find the car. I just couldn't remember where it was. I noticed it was pouring rain - not a normal rain, but frightening sheets of water. Someone had their car radio on pretty loud, and I heard the newscaster saying something about weapons of mass destruction, and the cities of Boston, New York and Chicago.

At this point, I freaked out. I had no idea where my car was and apparently there was some kind of nuclear holocaust in progress. I ran outside in the rain (which was probably radioactive) to try to figure out where I parked. As I looked up at the parking garage, a jet airliner came screaming through very low to the ground. I watched in horror as it banked, wheeled up to try to pull out of a spiral, and then took a nose dive.

Then my dream turned into a Michael Bay movie.

I saw the explosion a couple blocks away billow up, then I turned and started to run. The shock wave hit me, picked me up and carried me (in super slo mo) hundreds of feet into a park, like being caught in a tidal wave (I've had intense tidal wave dreams in the past, as well, where I'm surfing it all the way in). The shock wave finally dissipated and deposited me in the park. I hit the ground and rolled to my feet like Jackie Chan (Drunken Master Jackie Chan, not Karate Kid Jackie Chan).

I started running, looking over my shoulder to see a wall of fire bearing down on me. I could tell it was coming too fast. Up ahead: a tree. I sprinted to the tree, the flames coming fast, and suddenly I was up in the tree, climbing as high as I could. I looked down and saw the sea of fire below, eating at the base of the tree. Sure enough, the tree started to fall (again in super slo mo because clearly I've seen one too many Bruce Willis movies). I hung on until the tree was almost parallel to the ground, then I balanced as it fell the rest of the way (Legolas would've been proud). By the time it landed, the sea of fire had died out to mainly smoking spots and small fires. I hopped and picked my way through them, and realized that, for some reason, I was barefoot.

I made it out of the park, and crossed the street to a row of houses. Three older women were standing out front watching me coming. They looked at me with flat expressions. One of them said something like "What's your problem? That explosion was four or five blocks away." I looked down at my singed, bleeding feet, then back at her. "Oh, maybe we can help you," another of the women said. My next thought was that I had to call my mother on my cell. The rain had stopped but the sky was gray, the clouds moving fast.

But you know what? I still had the bags over my shoulder with my writing in them.

Fin.