There had been a few minutes of cloudless thunder. The sky flickered a couple of more times, but slowly everything was coming back to normal. The sun was burning through its inky shell, the grey sky was being painted back to a burning blue, and the river of smoke was draining like a pool at the end of the summer.
Within ten minutes my backyard looked as if nothing had ever happened. The sunshine was pouring into the kitchen, the grass was still bending to the softly gusts of summer wind, and the mountain was still in place as majestic looking as ever.
I retrieved my cell phone and got a call from my parents saying that everyone was okay and that they would be home soon.
I woke up to my alarm clock.
I had dreamt the whole thing. No weather anomolies. No apocalypse. No end of the world weather.
Just a late Saturday morning.
Even though in the end it was only a dream, I’ve spent the last two days wondering about it. If the end of the world was coming, how would I act? Would I act like my media-gorging and paranoid self like in my dream or would I sit upstairs and read a book and barely show any signs of being upset? Would I spend $300 to lock myself into a stadium? Is that the dollar amount for safety? Would I be like the hurricane victims of this summer that refused to evacuate and died on their own front porches when the storm hit? After receiving the news that a storm or some strange weather anomaly was about to hit my hemisphere of the world, how would my life be different? What would the morning of that day before the storm be like? How would my life change when the storm didn’t do any damage?
Who would I be? How would my life change? How would history and the rest of the world change?
What is my life worth and what would I do with two weeks’ notice?