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Okay, apparently my brain is fixated on stuff. I had a very disturbing dream last night, and I thought I'd share. It was mostly disturbing because there were just enough real-life elements to make me think it had actually happened (while in my half-asleep stage, of course), and that was damned scary.
So. In my dream, it's later tonight. I'm atDorval Trudeau airport, waiting to pick up Marc. I'm off in a side-terminal, and through the floor-to-ceiling windows, I can see the huge expanse of open space that is the mess of runways. The airport is being buffeted by natural disaster after natural disaster: fires, hurricanes, thunderstorms, you name it. I'm worried that Marc's plane won't be able to land, because of all these freak weather conditions.
I realize that I still don't know Marc's flight number. I pull out my cell-phone to call Marc's dad, who does know it, only to realize I've left his number at home on my computer. So I call home instead and speak to my mom. For reasons not entirely clear, but possibly because the file gets deleted as we're talking, she only gives me the first three numbers and leaves me screaming into the phone. As we're talking, I see from the blacktop that there's a tornado building up. It's getting bigger and bigger, and starts heading right towards where I'm standing. I break into a run, and wind up just at the edge of it as it smashes through the gigantic airport windows. For some reason, this tornado has been electrically charged, and it shorts out my cell phone and causes me no small amount of pain as it passes.
As I'm lying there, a bit dazed, with my defunct cell in my hand, I see that the airport terminal has lost its roof. More than that, there are four or five tornados in the terminal, all about to join together to form one gigantic monster-tornado. One of them has sucked up something that's on fire, and the fire is spreading through the swirling mass of debris. I start running.
I find out that the military is evacuating the airport, and they'll be at our terminal "soon." So me and the rest of the people waiting at the terminal all huddle together, hoping that the massive flaming tornado won't kill us before we're evacuated. After far, far too long, the military (MPs, maybe) show up and start escorting us out. And they're not the happy, friendly military people, either. They're dead serious, and all of them are holding Very Big Guns (tm). As we're escorted across the terminal and towards the waiting mobilization zone, it feels more like a prisoner transport than a rescue mission, and I'm among the prisoners.
And that, more or less, is where the dream stops. Primary feelings are fear and helplessness.
Stupid brain... (less than 15 hours until Marc's in town, assuming all goes well *knocks on wood*)
So. In my dream, it's later tonight. I'm at
I realize that I still don't know Marc's flight number. I pull out my cell-phone to call Marc's dad, who does know it, only to realize I've left his number at home on my computer. So I call home instead and speak to my mom. For reasons not entirely clear, but possibly because the file gets deleted as we're talking, she only gives me the first three numbers and leaves me screaming into the phone. As we're talking, I see from the blacktop that there's a tornado building up. It's getting bigger and bigger, and starts heading right towards where I'm standing. I break into a run, and wind up just at the edge of it as it smashes through the gigantic airport windows. For some reason, this tornado has been electrically charged, and it shorts out my cell phone and causes me no small amount of pain as it passes.
As I'm lying there, a bit dazed, with my defunct cell in my hand, I see that the airport terminal has lost its roof. More than that, there are four or five tornados in the terminal, all about to join together to form one gigantic monster-tornado. One of them has sucked up something that's on fire, and the fire is spreading through the swirling mass of debris. I start running.
I find out that the military is evacuating the airport, and they'll be at our terminal "soon." So me and the rest of the people waiting at the terminal all huddle together, hoping that the massive flaming tornado won't kill us before we're evacuated. After far, far too long, the military (MPs, maybe) show up and start escorting us out. And they're not the happy, friendly military people, either. They're dead serious, and all of them are holding Very Big Guns (tm). As we're escorted across the terminal and towards the waiting mobilization zone, it feels more like a prisoner transport than a rescue mission, and I'm among the prisoners.
And that, more or less, is where the dream stops. Primary feelings are fear and helplessness.
Stupid brain... (less than 15 hours until Marc's in town, assuming all goes well *knocks on wood*)
