1. The Dream
crunch... Crunch... CRUNCH... A single crack runs through my bedroom ceiling. The cracks quickly forms a gaping hole that rocks and sediment of the earth's crust crust tumble downward towards the floor. The white walls and floor break apart turning what once was my bedroom into a pile of earth and technology.
I wake with a cold sweat covering my body and my heart the sounds of a beating drum in a song that is made up of only allegro parts. This can only mean one thing. I had the dream again.
For as long as I can remember every Sunday night I dream the same dream. I don't know if something as awful and exciting as my world collapsing is in the dream category or rather the nightmare category. I have never told anyone of my Sunday night encounters, because if I did I would be instantly carded for mutiny and NO ONE wants to bring that shame upon themselves or their family.