I dreamed last night that a large tractor trailer truck carrying a huge load of bricks jacknifed on a main street in my town. I watched an arial view of it happening, saw the back end of the trailer crash into itself, forcing the cab of the truck up in the air. I saw the bricks flying everywhere, landing on cars and homes and children. One woman was thrown from her car in the ensuing crash and she hung on to the side of a landscaping truck, screaming for her life. Bricks rained down on her and silenced her screams.
I watched this helplessly, not really sure where I was or why I was seeing it. I just kept seeing person after person crushed by bricks, cars piling up on top of one another, the sound of metal on metal burning my ears.
The dream stopped suddenly and changed scenes; a nightmare with bad editing. I was wading through a river of barley water. My father had taken us to Colorado, which somehow ended up next to Pennsylvania. He was making us swim because we had all forgotten how but the river was filled with barley and sugar that left a bitter taste in your mouth when you swallowed it. I tried to tell everyone about the truck accident. No one could understand me because my mouth was full of barley.
Bad editing sequence again, and I'm getting into my car. But I'm getting in the back seat, even though I'm supposed to be driving. The car starts pulling away without anyone in the driver's seat and I jump up front. Next to me is a neighbor, and I tell her that someone her size should not be wearing short shorts. She snorts at me, a pig-like sound that makes me think she is answering me with sarcasm. I tried to tell her that I didn't mean she was fat, it's just that her legs are too long to wear those shorts, but my mouth is still full of barley and sugar water.
We try to drive to the scene of the accident. My sister is in the back seat of my car talking about my wedding. There are sparks falling from the sky and I have a sense of dread, like something big and dark is coming. Aliens, I think. Terrorism, my neighbor says. Roses for the bouquet? my sister says.
We stop at a supermarket so I can buy cigarettes and toilet paper. Everyone I went to high school with is there. They won't let me on line. These guys with Power Ranger swords chase me down the hallway and I make myself tiny and hide inside a package of cheap plastic soldiers. Someone puts a dish towel over me. I can't breathe inside the package. It's dark and the soldiers are asking me too many questions. I try to light a cigarette, but they are soaked with barley water and won't light.
Bad editing sequence. We make it to the scene of the accident, and we start going through briefcases that have fallen out of crushed cars. A helicopter drones overhead. Lights flicker and fade in the houses around us and then it is dark. Darker than midnight, darker than a child's room with the lights out and curtains closed. I feel liquid rising up above my ankles and I think there's a flood, this is it, the end of the world. And then the liquid is warm and sticky and I realize it's the blood of all the people around me, the ones killed by bricks and pieces of metal torn from crushed cars. I scream at myself to wake up.
I wake with a pounding headache and a realization that this dream is going to be with me all day.
Site of the day: Jack's Corner