I dreamed of fire, I dreamed of floods

Fire

What I am doing right now is I am dreaming. What I am doing, that lets me know I am dreaming, is standing on my roof admiring the orange horizon in every direction.

The first thing I did when I got up here on the roof was start sweating. The second thing was I noticed the sky was glowing orange, like a sunset lighting the horizon on fire. The third thing I did when I got up here was realize that it couldn’t be a sunset, because the glowing was in every direction. The fourth thing was I stopped breathing.

What I am doing up here on the roof right now, with the orange horizon in every direction, is I am watching people come out their front doors, onto their balconies or peak through their blinds. What these people are doing is the same thing as me – watching this city burn all around us.

What all the people are doing right now is panicking. They are grabbing their children and the few things they have decided they cannot live without and throwing them in their cars, trying to escape. What these people are doing right now is all wrong.

What I hope you do right now is stop panicking. Forget all about the things you think you cannot live without. What I want you to do right now is to wake up.

Floods

I am walking down the middle of a road, a freeway. Wet from the rain I say, “It’s like this everywhere. But here it’s the worst.” I am talking to my friend. He’s walking about ten feet away from me. We aren’t looking at each other. We’re looking down, at the running water. This freeway is turning into a river, like all the other streets in town.

There aren’t any cars on the roads now. There is an unnatural silence over the whole city. Everyone is sitting in their homes, waiting for this to pass. Patiently sitting around, with their hands in their laps.

What I don’t say is that this is just the beginning. These two or three inches of running water, this is only the start of what is coming. This time, this isn’t going to pass.

When it started raining three days ago no one thought much of it. No one really even noticed, except me. I got in my truck and started driving.

I didn’t know why I was driving at first. I made it to a few small surrounding towns. I told them about the rain, about how it wasn’t going to stop. I offered help but they all turned me down, turned me away. I ended up back here.

We both walk toward the sidewalk as the water continues to run. The rain is slow, but the water is rising. You would have to watch it for hours to notice any real change. This is happening slowly, but it’s still happening.

We don’t look at each other. We just walk, looking down at the water, toward the center of town. We don’t say anything now. We both understand. Now we’re just waiting.