I had a crazy dream last night.
My brain did a little time-traveling and I was back around early High School age, living in my childhood home with my parents and older sister, (though I had the pug dog I own now, instead of the little white family mutt we had then.) It was all very Sci-Fi Apocalyptic AU, since there was some sort of horrible world-ending cosmic event happening. We didn't know the science-y name for it, so we called it 'The Crack in the Sky', and what it was was this giant, horizontal, blinding-white tear that you could see on the horizon whichever direction you looked. There seemed to be two choices: Stay put and wait to die a slow horrible death in your choice of location as this thing ate the planet, or walk into the big void and just go 'poof'. About 95 percent of the population chose 'poof',including my family.
It was all very scary and sad. I remember us walking around the house, gathering up certain things to take with us. I took my Granny's music box, and costume jewelry, and some of the favorite paintings and drawings I had done, and tucked the dog under my arm. The most vivid image in my dream was arriving within a few miles of whatever-it-was, and just leaving the car-we supposed we wouldn't be needing it again-and as I looked around I realized there were cars as far as the eye could see. Then there some trees and green hills, and we started seeing more and more people walking with us toward it. All around us were possessions that people had just dropped on the way-suitcases and jewelry and toys, works of art. My Mom bent down to pick something up, and I said "Mom. We don't need that stuff. Nobody needs that now." She said, "Oh," and we just let our things fall in the grass, and the white tear got bigger and closer and more blinding, and seemed to be compelling people forward...and then I woke up.
I guess it doesn't sound too terrible, unless you were mentally living it, which I was. I told The Boy about my dream and he said, "You should make that into a story." (People always say that. To which I usually shiver with rememberance and say "Nope." (Besides, I think James Tiptree, Jr. beat me to it and did it better. And now I kind of want to read that story again. Even though it made me cry.) This entry was originally posted at http://citrine-too.dreamwidth.org/267700.html. Please comment there using OpenID.
It was all very scary and sad. I remember us walking around the house, gathering up certain things to take with us. I took my Granny's music box, and costume jewelry, and some of the favorite paintings and drawings I had done, and tucked the dog under my arm. The most vivid image in my dream was arriving within a few miles of whatever-it-was, and just leaving the car-we supposed we wouldn't be needing it again-and as I looked around I realized there were cars as far as the eye could see. Then there some trees and green hills, and we started seeing more and more people walking with us toward it. All around us were possessions that people had just dropped on the way-suitcases and jewelry and toys, works of art. My Mom bent down to pick something up, and I said "Mom. We don't need that stuff. Nobody needs that now." She said, "Oh," and we just let our things fall in the grass, and the white tear got bigger and closer and more blinding, and seemed to be compelling people forward...and then I woke up.
I guess it doesn't sound too terrible, unless you were mentally living it, which I was. I told The Boy about my dream and he said, "You should make that into a story." (People always say that. To which I usually shiver with rememberance and say "Nope." (Besides, I think James Tiptree, Jr. beat me to it and did it better. And now I kind of want to read that story again. Even though it made me cry.) This entry was originally posted at http://citrine-too.dreamwidth.org/267700.html. Please comment there using OpenID.