04-03-2011, 08:16 AM
I had another apocalyptic dream last night (amazing how often we seem to be having those, isn't it?). I was with a group of a dozen or so people in a grand old manor house in some small town along the coast in northern France. The home had tall, wide windows at the front of the great room and also a big skylight. I looked up through the skylight and saw a sinister-looking alien military craft fly over. We were all on edge because we knew something bad was about to happen.
This was one of those dreams in which weeks or months seem compacted into moments. At some point, we looked up through the skylight, and suddenly, an enormous swarm of assorted advanced American military aircraft, in tight formation, zoomed over the house. There were hundreds of craft that passed over in a few seconds, turning a tight arc, like a flock of starlings. There followed an apocalyptic worldwide battle, which pitted country against country and family against family. We stayed safe in the manor house for several weeks until things died down, some of us occasionally standing guard at the windows with rifles; but eventually we ran out of food, and had to make a sortie out to find some. So we left the house with a few rifles and all headed out of town on foot. Everywhere were little knots of local residents, nervously eyeing us and each other, wondering who might be the enemy. We assured everyone we passed that we meant no harm, and that we would share any food we found when we returned. Then the dream ended.
Somewhere in the middle of this dream, I was in a small storeroom in the manor house, which contained shelves packed with dictionary-sized boxes; each contained a stamped sheet-metal container that vaguely resembled an oversize pistol magazine. These metal containers held souls that needed to ascend to the light, but were having trouble, in varying degrees, in doing so; I opened each container and liberated souls, which appeared as little glowing clouds. Some were able to ascend upward on their own, and some were not; I helped the hampered souls ascend using some sort of telekinesis.
This was one of those dreams in which weeks or months seem compacted into moments. At some point, we looked up through the skylight, and suddenly, an enormous swarm of assorted advanced American military aircraft, in tight formation, zoomed over the house. There were hundreds of craft that passed over in a few seconds, turning a tight arc, like a flock of starlings. There followed an apocalyptic worldwide battle, which pitted country against country and family against family. We stayed safe in the manor house for several weeks until things died down, some of us occasionally standing guard at the windows with rifles; but eventually we ran out of food, and had to make a sortie out to find some. So we left the house with a few rifles and all headed out of town on foot. Everywhere were little knots of local residents, nervously eyeing us and each other, wondering who might be the enemy. We assured everyone we passed that we meant no harm, and that we would share any food we found when we returned. Then the dream ended.
Somewhere in the middle of this dream, I was in a small storeroom in the manor house, which contained shelves packed with dictionary-sized boxes; each contained a stamped sheet-metal container that vaguely resembled an oversize pistol magazine. These metal containers held souls that needed to ascend to the light, but were having trouble, in varying degrees, in doing so; I opened each container and liberated souls, which appeared as little glowing clouds. Some were able to ascend upward on their own, and some were not; I helped the hampered souls ascend using some sort of telekinesis.