Earthquake In Boston

So last night, I had a dream, and I wrote it down as soon as I woke up. Here it is.

I was flying in on a plane, and suddenly the wind picked up, answe clipped the edge of a high rise building on our way into the airport. At that moment, an earthquake hit, and though the plane was not shaking, the runway was, but the pilot successfully landed the plane.

Somehow, I was magically in the dorm room in the high rise that we clipped (maybe it was an apartment building) but Dan, Joe and I were living there.and Dan was showing us how he had an inflatable car. It was literally the size of a very large vacuum cleaner when folded up, but it unfolded into a compact car. It was partially nylon for some of the walls, so I commented that he'd probably not fair well in an accident. Dan mentioned how much he hated public transportation. I looked out the window towards the beautiful city of boston. Suddenly the earthquake hit, (but it was the same earthquake that occured before, when I was on the plane, I guess I was in two places at once.

I screamed to jump under a table and did so, as Dan hid somewhere else. I don't know where Joe was. It seemed to last a lifetime. Definately over a minute. I looked out the window and saw the trees on the shore shaking violently. When it was all over, it seemed like the city had faired pretty well. I noted that the back bay was still there, and had not sunk due to liqifaction like my Natural Disasters and Earth Sciences teacher had predicted.

For some reason, I decided to head into the main part of the city (For some reason this high rise seemed to be in cambridge.) Since we still had power, I tried taking public transportation, IE, the green line, and it actually worked. For a little while. The train stopped in the middle of the tracks and I had to wind my way up many flights of stairs and down narrow passages trying to find a way out.

In the process, I came accross some sort of major machine room for the T, and workers were trying to fix damaged machinary. The foreman leading the repairwork was none other than Pete Chvany. I talked to him briefly, and tried to reconnect some severed wires, but apparently I did it wrong, and I told him how impressed I was that a film director knew so much about subway machinery. I left and made my way to the surface again.

Somehow I made my way back to the dorm (I don't know if I even made it accross the Charles/Bay (I don't know where anything was because it was only a verisimilitude of boston, because as you know, the Green line isn't underground at Cambridge, but I still was underground on the greenline there). When I got to the dorm, I peeked into the room, and couldn'g find Joe or Dan. So I peeked into the neighbors room too. There floorboard were litterally spread out so that there were gaps you could see through in them. As I gingerly and carefully walked out of the weekend room, I (for some reason) paused to close the doors on the refridgerator, as the power was still on, and I guess I wanted to make sure that their food would keep.

As I steeped out into the hallway/elevator lobby, I spotted a young black security guard, and flagged her down. "Excuse me, miss" I said, "Where is everyone?" She said that they'd all been evacuated, and she was searching for others, because many people were just staying put. Then, from around the corner, my Civil Rights class professor, Mike Brown walked by and said hello. We were all in shock, but we still exchanged pleasantries. When suddenly I looked out the window behind Mike and noticed the giant wave coming in from the ocean. I screamed, and ran for the stairs, and the other two followed, evidently seeing what I saw. Mike Brown was running and I looked back as the wave crashed into the building, bending and twisting it. Somehow the stairs remained intact as parts of the floor began to break away, including the landings, which meant that we had to vault over the railing to get turned around to go up the next flight of stairs. Mike brown screamed that he should have known to get to higher ground, as everyone talked about the tsunamis that follow earthquakes ever since the Indian ocean tsunami on Christmas Day 2005. We got to the top of the building to some kind of atruim, and the building had definately disintigrated beneath us. We began to float, but I don't know weather the wave was still going in or going back out, but we were floating, and we were alive. I think I remember smiling in spite of my fear.

We picked up some more people on some other floating debris, but I was still the youngest survior. We floated trying to keep our strange bouyancy for tipping over. We began to float towards an auto body shop, where an empty lift sat right at the waterline. We somehow steered or through the grace of god landed on it, and beached on it so that as the water receeded from under us, we didn't float out to see. I had no idea were we were. But the water receeded and we all got off of our raft.

I'm really shaky about this next part, so I may make stuff up to fill in the blanks in my head.

I think I grabbed a walking stick and started poking around, and then I began to pray. And god spoke to me. I don't remeber exactly what he said or exactly what I said but I think I said the wrong thing or something, because I was overcome with emotion, and I started sobbing, leaning on my stick, crying out through my tears: "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, but I've never talked to god before" and "How can I lead this people to safety, I don't know anything".

Everyone was watching me, and to my suprise, I think that they all knew that I wasn't crazy, that I really was talking to god. Maybe it was the fact that all those fantastic events had occured that day, but not one person questioned it.

After that, I woke up.

Strange dream, no?