Dream Journal

Someone said it was the end of days. Incredibly huge tsunamis were rolling up all the coasts and continuing across the continent. Rebecca, Jamie and I had fled Georgia to higher ground in Colorado. There was a huge structure built of girders sticking out from the side of an incline. It was a giant parking garage for houses, and at the top was Blaine House, but stripped down to wood. We were on the mountain at about the height of Blaine House. The tsunami arrived. It hit the structure, rolled up to the base of Blaine House, and destroyed it. Rebecca and I joined up with this guy looking for shelter. I didn’t trust him. We found a short concrete passage that two people were using as a bathroom. Then we found another concrete opening that continued on — a sewer or something. We went in and. . . . I think this eventually led to a mega mall. I remember at one point looking around to see if there were any interesting stores. There were tons of people in fantasy convention costumes — super heroes and the like. There was a comic book store but it wasn’t open yet, though I could see some costumed people in there. The mission to get on a plane and escape was kicking back in. I met up with another woman looking for an exit. I pulled out my iPhone and it brought up a very easy way to get out. We took a few flights of escalators up to the top floor. We saw the exit sign above some stores. I searched around, but couldn’t see an exit. I asked someone, and they directed me to go in the back kitchen area of this restaurant. I did, and it was busy with activity. There were delicious-looking donuts here and there, and I remembered that I was there once before to exit and they had offered me a donut. I had to skirt the machinery, then ask these guys to move aside to let me through. I squeezed between a machine and the wall, took a last wistful look at the donuts, and then exited through the back door.

Outside, the sky was heavy with rain. Before me was a small parking lot. I went looking for my car, and found it. I got out my phone, which was an older, bulkier cellphone this time, and accidentally dropped it in a deep puddle. I picked it up, shook it off thoroughly, then called Rebecca. I told her to meet me at the airport right away. Then as I was putting the phone away, I dropped it in the same puddle again. Cursing, I shook it off and got into the car.

The next scene I remember is meeting up with Rebecca, Steve, Daniel, and Kati. We took a bus to the airport. There was this long scene of me sitting in the seat next to Daniel and him telling me stories and joking around with the person behind us. We ended up several levels down in this massive parking deck that we were told had just been opened up so that people could park anywhere — no more restrictions and fees and blocked-off areas. There were a bunch of homeless people that had moved in, taking advantage of the lax restrictions.

The airport had these piles of boxes of personal belongings everywhere. There was a scene where Rebecca had stumbled upon some of my old drawings and notes and various things. I started going through the box and putting what I wanted to take with us into bags. After a bit I saw Kati doing the same thing, but my bags were gone. I jumped to the conclusion that she had dumped my stuff out and used the bags for herself, so to teach her a cruel lesson, I dumped out all the stuff she had bagged up, mixing it in with the rest of the junk. She didn’t seem phased, though.

Then there was a call for passengers for the last plane leaving. Steve and Rebecca had to go grab their things. They ran back into this restaurant and grabbed these long metal trays to bring. They started hurrying them back to where we were piling our stuff, and I was confused and a little upset that they were wasting their time with metal trays. I said I’d go get the useful stuff. Steve said I wouldn’t be able to find it, so I followed him on this long, winding route through this 70s-era orange restaurant to this table piled with boxes and bags. I grabbed some important things, and Rebecca joined me. On the way back, she started slowing down and collapsed onto the ground with Jamie, overtaken by sadness and despair. I tried to get her motivated to get up, but she wouldn’t, so I scooped her and Jamie up in my arms and ran towards the last plane boarding. Her sadness got to me and I began to cry. We arrived just as they were accepting the final passengers. There I was, holding my wife in my arms, baby in hers. I pleaded with them, and they let us in.

The line was extremely long and slow, and made its way through the airport. I don’t recall getting on a plane, but I do recall sitting down in seats arranged in rows in the airport, and then we took off. Some people moved over so that Rebecca and I could sit together. Rebecca said it was past Jamie’s bedtime, and I took him from her to let him sleep on me for a little while. For the most part he was a bundle of blankets, but when I looked in, I saw that he was scrawny but had a full beard, which I thought of as awesome rather than unusual.

Information was scattered and uncertain. I talked to some of the passengers around us, asking if they knew anything what had happened. I assumed massive worldwide earthquakes had caused the tsunamis. One woman said all the coastal states were largely destroyed, and I informed her that the eastern tsunami came in as far as Colorado. I talked briefly with Rebecca about where in the central states we might want to resettle.

After gathering sparse details, I decided to check on the plane’s status. I switched to third-person perspective only to find us flying low over a freeway. Someone asked the captain why we were flying so low and I heard the captain saying there was a problem of some kind. The plane passed under a bridge and then slowly started to land on the freeway. It went well, except we heard warnings that up ahead there was an obstacle of some kind. Soon I saw it — a toll booth blocking the right side of the freeway. The plane hit it, sheering off and destroying the right side of the plane. The left side shook and listed. As it started to careen up into the air, I turned to Rebecca. Time slowed down as I looked in her eyes and said “Rebecca, I love you”. The left side broke off into sections and our set of two seats stayed upright as it flew through the air. They landed and separated, remaining upright and sliding along the road. I unlatched my seatbelt and just stepped out of the seat at a trot, then slowed down and stopped. I shouted for Rebecca to do the same. She did. A car coming from behind in the lane we were in almost hit us but we stepped aside in time.

So we survived the plane crash and I was ecstatic. We were apparently in California now, but it was also ruined. I couldn’t see it from where we were, but I saw images in my mind of the city after being hit by the tsunamis.

The next scene I remember was coming home to our Deerwood house. Amazingly, it was still standing, and I wondered if Georgia hadn’t been hit as hard as we thought. The creek was swollen and the top of an orange tree floated by. Someone tried to get some oranges off it. Walking around the house, I saw no sign of damage until I got to a broken window with weeds plastered against it. Going in the front door, I found that the main floor had been gutted by floodwaters, while the the top floor had only had a foot of water. Our stuff was still there, but mostly ruined. Chairs and tables had piled up the stairwell, and I had to move them to get upstairs.

We’re awake now. Without hearing a word of my dreams, Rebecca told me of the dreams she was just having: She was having an anxiety dream about losing Jamie, about yelling at some woman who objected to her publicly breast feeding, and about there being massive flooding from a tsunami. They were at one point at the top of a building surrounded by rushing flood waters!