Posted by: normanlgreen | December 25, 2011

Dream, December 25, 2011 no sugar plumbs

Dream, home 7:41 am

On a bright winter day, I drive the white Subaru to a single story office building. This dark brown brick structure seems to have been executed in the late 1970’s, and it houses a non-profit organization, where people from various part of my life are employed.

I leave the engine running as I believe that I will only stop long enough to make brief contact with Kit. Inside, I am ushered out of the lobby by a young woman, who has me sit at a table in a staff break room. Kit will be late, and this young professional has been assigned to keep me talking, to burn the time. I learn more about the organization without ever getting a handle on what they do.  Many of the staff pass through the room. I notice that two of the people are developmentally delayed. I feel good that they have been placed in these important positions and wonder either of them had been engaged at Current Industries.

After a few minutes, I excuse myself to kill the engine on the car. It stands by the curb in the late morning sun, its engine chugging. I reach inside to remove the key, then stand for a moment soaking up the rare sunlight.

Back inside, I see to my left through a doorway into a suite of offices. My friend Brian darts from one office of the suite to the other. He is highly focused and his mood is dark. He carries a single sheet of paper and places it before a woman who is seated at a large desk. They exchange nods before my view is cut off, as I continue to walk back to the break room. The PA system comes to life and the woman’s voice makes an announcement. She flatly declares a situation, referring to a three digit code. No one panics, but all of the people stiffen, while some of them move to the front of the building – battle stations.

I ask out loud: “What is going on?” I do not expect a reply, But the young man I spotted earlier, one of the DD employees, speaks to me gently. “You probably won’t believe it, and it may just be a drill, but that means that there has been a nuclear strike.”

He and I move to one of the large picture windows on the West side of the building. We scan the sky for mushroom clouds.


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