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In a large auditorium.
This thing is massive. There are about two hundred students in the
bleachers of a Gym. The professor walks in and talks to us using a
projection software and television screens and a microphone. We were
to get our tests back today. I asked myself how they could grade the
tests in 2 days of 200 people, then remembered they were bubble
sheets. Having graded papers myself I considered, “How long would it
take to grade 200 papers if there was just one fill-in-the-blank
question.
The professor seems pleased with himself. “Today, something
something. And it landed right on the curve mean.” The professor was
happy that the average test score was exactly 70: I had gotten 80, a
very low “B”. A different voice, “For those of you with low grades
this is a wake up call, for those of you with 80s try to work on
getting them up.
At some point the plurality of students left. At various rooms there
were plates full of quarters and dimes near the entrances of
buildings. Presumably it was so you could buy from the Soft drink
machine. Seeing all this unclaimed money I wonder, if I just take a
few dollars from each dish I could make money. But, I leave it.
Think, “They have probably worked out the psychology of large
numbers of people and determined that people in fact will not steal
from the dishes more than they need. [this is such a pie-in-the-sky
utopian thought, but, then, this is the future]
I go to town. A baseball game is starting in the stadium. The Red
Socks and the someone’s are playing. The game is in the late
innings. Suddenly, a very tall lanky individual is seen running
around the base pads with shorts and his white socks. He has ‘hippy’
long hair and a face. Well, he looked like this guy:
On the thirty fifth floor of a hotel building. I get to have my own
room. There is a closet and a bed. I have been wearing the same
shirt a while. It is a little wrinkled. I set it on the bed and
press out each wrinkle. The newspaper had said it would be windy
today. Maybe I should be outside. I will go outside after I get
dressed.
From the window I can see the entire city. I see the spinning air
vents which adorn the tops of the buildings and the air
conditioners. I am up so high I cannot even see the sidewalk below.
A few moments more I spend enjoying my time in a motel by myself.
Its fun to be in a motel with a city at your feet. Able to go and do
whatever you want-to.
Winds began blowing against my window pane. I turned to face it. The
wind crashed and howled against the window but the window did not
give way.
“This building has stood for 40 years against all weathers.” I
thought. Today will be no different. This will pass. The winds
stopped. I looked outside and it had subsided: momentarily.
Again the wind repeated its assult. Storm clouds gathered and begin
to join the lonely wind in a cauldron in the sky. I looked about the
room. I was anxious to do “something” anything. At least finish
getting my shirt and socks on. As I looked around, the lights
flickered and then went out completely.
“The building has backup lights., A building of this size must have
a generator. The lights flickered returned. Then the only light in
the room was from the grey window sill.
Adrenaline began to pump, in my feet, in my arms, in my neck. I was
greatly afraid. The elevators would be down. Nothing to do but stand
and wait peering at the sky and hoping the building or roof does not
fall.
The storm was merciless; the winds must have been 60 mph. The winds
were only made worse because they bent around buildings and made
loud whistling and high-pitched noises.
A second time I paced around the room. I could feel I had as great a
chance to die today as to live. I gave my last confession:
God, I am sorry for all my sins. I am sorry for all the pornography,
the masterbations, the lies. Please forgive me, through your Son,
Jesus Christ. Mary, mother of God, Pray for me now:
I paused a moment as if to emphasise that “Now” meant right now,
this very moment, in case she took breaks. And at the hour of my
death.
God, I would like to thank you for (my friends) Jamie, Kellie,
Miranda, and Michelle.
The names were in order of importance from greatest to least. There
is nothing shabby about being the last name on a last confession.
But, my mind wanted to emphasize to God one last time, that Jamie
had been the principal friend/gf in my life.
Turning toward the window for a third time. A building had been
uprooted and was heading for us. It looked as if it had been ripped
from the ground. It was flying about eye level with me. I prepared
to die. There is this small half breath on the inside when, you
cannot do anything but accept a fate. The flying building did not
hit my floor, but instead gravity took it down about 10 stories and
it hit there.
For a few moments I am elated. It has missed “Me”. Then, I consider
those below who might be hurt or dying. The building is shaking. I
realize the walls might not be able to hold against the force of a
second buildings weight. Again I wait: Peering into the clouds of
dust wishing for a way out.
Many could see the falling building as a “9-11” style dream. I am
sure it is. But, no thoughts of 9-11 came to mind in that room. When
I awoke and the white light of the noon-day sun hit my eyes I was
relieved and confused. What was completely real a moment ago was
not. I was safe. I turned my head on my pillow and faced the
ceiling. Looking to God I repeated my dream’s prayer word-for-word
saying, “all that, I meant that”. Fear it seems is a great converter
and repenter.
I hate to type this, but yes. I do have a sense of exactly what it
feels like to be in the twin towers during 9-11. During a dream,
whether I like it or not. The place I am and the circumstances of
being in a crumbling construction were with me. The same petty “I am
glad it missed me” and attempted reassurance “This building has
stood for many years” was repeated by me.
Did I think of my family? Yes. They were “Somewhere” near bye,
either in the hotel or in town. But, considering my circumstances
actually I blocked that out as “I can do nothing about that.” And
just tried to survive.
“Why didn’t I take the stairs?”
this is what the critical part of my brain pondered. What would have
happened if I climbed down 34 flights of steps. You see. The city
was falling apart., I didn’t think I would be any more safe by going
down than up. I thought I would be safer inside a building than
outside.
As I sit trying to think of any final moral I’ll just type this: Be
ready to face God, [now].
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