about another dumb dream

The President was riding a missile that he ordered launched, like Major T. J. "King" Kong in Dr. Strangelove. With nothing to lose but this life, I hopped on. We soared the skies, and I looked down in fascination at the goings on below--ships sailing seas, wars being waged, people busying beaches and boardwalks. The Earth was a map. I considered our inevitable descent, and how my sense of wonder would shrink into terror and grief. The missile wavered; it would soon begin to sink, then turn slightly this way and that in a gentle turbulence. Finally, we began our approach. At 15,000 feet I bailed, foolishly thinking I might somehow escape. Pushing to the end of the map, the missile, with the President aboard, dropped sharply to Earth; but I fell off, beyond the map page. I tucked and rolled across ground, scratched to a stop, and rose to my knees. A buddy from work was there. I hugged him tearfully, tightly, sobbing, destroyed.


Note: I know that people do not generally like to hear about other people's dreams.