June 22, 2009

Remains of the day

I woke up sweating after my recurring plane crash dream last night. It was the same plane, same crash, same location. I was on a beach, and I watched the plane crash into the ocean...first I heard the loud roar (thinking it was just the "sound of freedom" I didn't pay too much attention) then I noticed a trail of smoke in the air...and I watched as it fell from the sky. It was early morning, the beach was crowded so I can only assume it was the weekend. I saw flames and smoke rising above the waves. Soon people began to wash up on the beach...no survivors in this dream like my last. I was actually able to help a few people in the last dream--one a former classmate. As the bodies started to wash ashore, I along with other beachcombers, scoured the wreckage for any signs of life. That's when I saw several people that I knew...very well...who were dead on the beach.

I can't bring myself to ever tell anyone who I saw lying on the beach that day. It was absolute pandemonium, the blood and charred flesh...and the smell. I still see the tail floating in the water, the airline logo clearly visible above the surf.
I'm disturbed, mainly because the old man will board one of these beasts in the next week. I still can't figure out why water is involved--he won't be flying over an ocean. That's one for the birds.

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