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Ergh. The one dream I've had about an actual apocalypse was about four or five years ago. At first, I was in a room with several scientists, looking at this screen on which there was a large, dark planet, and we worked out between us that this was the Biblical inspiration for Satan, and therefore the source of all evil (a lot like in the Fifth Element). So we worked out a plan that would neutralise the entity's malign influence by slingshotting a probe around it with (something) inside. Then, I was myself again, and some sort of Christian secret society had realised that Armageddon was now never going to come, and panicked. So they'd constructed an artificical Heaven and Hell, and separated the world's population accordingly. Logically, therefore, I was consigned to the artificial Hell, which was constructed on the rifle range at my old school. This was a sort of enormous warehouse filled with canals, along which you'd be taken on boats, in order to be buried in compost-heap type things upside down and then set on fire. However, I and a group of people I knew in the dream managed to escape onto the school fields outside. And standing on the fields was an enormous (100 foot tall) bronze polar bear, with something on its head. We worked out that the "something" was in fact a spaceship (it looked like a cross between an ornate mirror and a UFO), and resolved to leave the Earth on it. So I flew (a very confusing feeling, like sliding belly-first onto an invisible plate of glass while staying airborne by treading water) up to its head height and had a word. It turned out that the polar bear was convinced that the spaceship was a particularly fashionable hat, and wouldn't relinquish it to let us leave the doomed Earth. However, I managed to persuade it that big metal spacegoing hats were "out" this season, and so it put the UFO down gently. We got the door open, and a hatch opened, spilling out a very gentle golden light.
At which point I woke up, and was extremely confused but somehow reassured and filled with a sense of achievement for several days.
Less pleasantly, I live about twenty miles away from Hemel Hempstead, and had been drinking the night the explosion happened. Also, I live very close to RAF Strike Command. So, when I was awoken by an enormous, furniture-shaking explosion in the middle of the night, I assumed the worst had happened, and stayed very, very still for the rest of the night in abject terror, which didn't even dissipate when I found out what it really was - for some reason I was convinced this was a cover story for the "real" happenings to prevent mass panic. Not a nice experience, or one which sheds particularly good light on my perspicacity, either. |
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