flashes of red and green

nope. not christmas, yet.

first, some background: i am a lucid dreamer and have been since i was a child. i'm sure there's plenty of psychoanalysis to be had there, but not today.  9 out of 10 times i know i am dreaming and make more-or-less aware choices that change the course of my dreams. almost never do i awake from a dream not knowing what is real.  i'm sure that would terrify me.

this weekend i dreamt of a tornado. i was living with vin diesel and paul walker in the third story of an uber modern condo dwelling all wood, concrete and glass on the edge of a small city, nestled in a cloud forest.  our days were filled with riding around in old cars on back mountain roads and laughter.

one stormy evening i had gone to the adjacent building, curled up in a window with drink in hand feeling pensive.  it was eerie outside and i felt anxious--the deep foreboding dread form of anxious, a constant low hum of warning.  i was transfixed on the horizon, the clouds moved strangely over the tree tops and there was a flash of red light.  the lucid part of my brain started mumbling about where this dream was going with its flashing red lights, perhaps aliens?

the tree tops swirled and i, waiting as though sitting on nails, drained the glass unable to shift my gaze. The sky flashed red again, then took on a greenish hue and within seconds the rain came--striking the window sideways. lucid-brain screamed out that it knew what this was and i yelled at people to take cover as i sprinted ruing the glass building with each slow-motion step.

No sooner had i crossed the bridge into our building and yelled the word tornado than the house imploded.  crystals of glass like snow reflecting the green hue swirled around me as the world darkened. i awoke in rubble to the silence that always follows a catastrophe, too late to have saved either of them and perhaps unwittingly, too late to save myself.