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|Storm clouds are gathering||Dreamt:||Dec 18th, 2004|
|Storm Clouds were
gathering as they so often do in CharlesLand. Grey clouds, white
puffy clouds, winds and threats of storms.
Storms in Charlesland never rain.
A grey vortex formed in the distance. Sized like a... Like that My first reaction was to assemble the family. I picked up my little brother Eric from his bedroom. I carried the eleven years old downstairs. “Hurry! A bad storm is brewing”. I laid him down next to many objects in the basement. Next, I looked for my second brother Tommy.
Feeling the pending danger my explanation to my much more mature brother was more vulgar, “Tommy, there is an *explative* tornado coming toward the house. Get up now! "
“Tommy Get up, … (I find I’m in a loss for words to describe things when it’s life and death. I end up wanting to swear a lot without trying to confuse the persons into inaction.)”
He arose from his bed with his hair bunched in clumps as he always does. We went toward the window and I presented the clouded storm to him. It was moving closer, and the wind rushed in fuller.
We all went to the basement. I presumed the safest place in the house. Next to the wall and just waited in relative darkness. Our mind’s eye could sense the oncoming dangers. I hoped Eric wouldn’t open his eyes or he would be more afraid than he obviously was.
My worst fears were revealed. For behind the storm a tornado was gathering strength with the whipping winds of the maelstrom. It was simply a matter of physics. This tornado swept from side to side of the calamity tearing a path of destruction through the dirt.
While I knew the “storm” had destroyed much property already I
hoped a prayer might help. Though the storm was distant. The fear
was certain we would meet its destination.
The storm was not listening. I knew that in the distance was
peace. For the storm had encircled the house shaking its
foundations. The edges of my reality became a different shade of
light. I was still in the basement but the winds took on an ethereal
form of hands ripping asunder wood and logs. The foundation was in
tact and I looked to my brothers with curiosity. The brothers were
bundled together (“bound to this one fate”).
Wonder: How does a Tornado kill you? Does rapid wind tear your flesh apart, or objects whipping around the room collapse the head. Does the house simply collapse and crush us completely. Then in a moment of surprise:
Sunshine peeked through the clouds. I felt an elated moment. But searched the sky for signs of the storm. It had passed by. True joy and happiness is rare for brief moments in living.
Left the house and looked around. The tornado had lifted and spun the house all the way to Fort Campbell. The house was worn but largely undamaged. I thought, “We will probably “get a new home now. That will be somewhat fun and new. Wondered jokingly if we’d owned the original house too where it stood.
We all left and walked the city to find our parents. Seeing Mr. Russ I smiled with all my teeth. “This is about as happy as you’ll ever see me” I said. Tommy, I, Eric, and Mr. Russ were walking to dinner with our family and Grandparents.
I looked to Tommy, “Did you tell them yet?” He replied, “No”. It was really cool fun to have a secret experience like that. I enjoyed the moment. We’ll probably tell them sometime before dinner is over. But not too soon or it will ruin the meal and they’ll be all crazy.
Tommy agreed and we went to dine.
As a joke and to prove a point to a friend a tall lanky athlete threw himself from the top of a hill. His friend watched in horror as he tumbled down the ravine obviously breaking a limb on the descent. When his friend could no longer see him the daredevil brushed himself off. He was obviously severely hurt, but pain was familiar to him.
I went up to comfort him but didn’t wish to seem patronizing. I choose my questions carefully, ” (Are you ok went in one side of my mind and out the other). Do you find that it’s hard to recover from falls? That dear reader is what happens when a mind tries too hard not to be typical. He said he’d be fine.
We walked toward the track. He was obviously a famous football player. We used to go to High School together. I was there to run a few laps. He suggested we race. I tried to win but my legs didn’t have the strength. It has been a common theme in dreams that my legs cannot walk or run. I don’t know why. One theory is that I don’t walk or run much in real life.
|Return to Dreams of Charlesland 2004||