This morning when I woke at an early hour, I detailed in my journal a rather strange dream.
Considering the pre-sleep conversations, the nature of this dream did not frighten me, nor did it present itself as an entirely possible reality, only a plausible one.
I dreamt that my old educational system, The Art Institute of Colorado, located downtown, had received a bomb threat.
( image credit, and informative article) —— https://www.archpaper.com/2019/10/former-art-institute-of-colorado-building-microunits/ —-
The location was cleared as the people took precaution to the warning. We evacuated to the edge of the city, but from a distance, I watched as the inconspicuous building became a singular point of fiery focus.
Within my soul, I knew than an unavoidable sonic boom was coming. I could feel it within my bones.
In an instant, like in Beirut, buildings in the surrounding area were vaporized into dusty dominoes, and a wall of ember consumed everything in its radial path for miles.
(Image credit and article)
—— https://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-8611201/amp/Explosives-expert-claims-Beirut-blast-caused-burning-military-missiles-not-ammonium-nitrate.html ——-
I knew that despite its morbid beauty, this was no place to stand and just take in the scenery. I began to run, like lead through water, slowing time around me to escape my fate.
To my right, there was a trail behind a shelf of trees, and I discovered a farmhouse with a storm shelter.
I rushed into the open door, accompanied by a stranger; a fellow astral warrior also seeking to outmaneuver the blast.
—pixabay.com
He was an Indian man with a sunken face and he spoke in a heavy accent as he prayed and clung to the bricks in the basement, as I clung to the fluidity of the experience.
I could feel that the wave would reach us, and trap us in stone. I wanted to wait, to try to convince my new friend that the grout and rock could not save us, but time was the only essence.
I got up, slowly. I was narrowly avoiding the debris as the storm shelter was hit, yet, somehow around me was a bubble of protection. A yellow film between my observation of the event and the event itself.
——pixabay.com
“She bore witness as the consummation of death and destruction waged war around her, but the strength and amor of God left her bare and new in the face of chaos.
——pixabay.com