You have to grant that sometimes dreams can be realistic, in parts. I dreamed last night of an immense nuclear bomb explosion south of Boston (maybe a couple states away, Connecticut perhaps). I missed the initial flash, which is fortunate since if the dream was realistic I’d have been blinded. But I saw the mushroom cloud, and, in defiance of actual perspective, I saw the ground for miles around ground-zero bursting into flame in successive rings as the heat made everyday substances like brick and stone actually burst.
The mushroom cloud itself was pure fire, red orange incineration. There was a small haloe ring around the flaming stalk of the mushroom. Although the perspective was unrealistic as I said earlier, had the perspective been real, this mushroom cloud was so huge that I imagine it would have been several miles high, appearing to be larger than a horizon-moon even if the ground zero was beyond the horizon. Needless to say it was horrible.
In the dream, this explosion took place in 2500, when the United States was an empire at war with some other force. For some reason, in preparation of an expected ground invasion, all the trees were being cut down across New England. This tactic — which I guess was to reduce cover available to the enemy? — was rendered useless when the other force detonated this bomb instead of sending ground troops. (No one liked this empire, by the way, even the people living in it. No one had asked us about cutting down the trees.)
Everyone in Massachusetts (where the “I” in the dream was) who was watching this cloud rise from outdoors knew we were all being irradiated by every particle in that cloud (each particle, although miles away, sending beams of invisible radiatation to its line of sight), and that although we felt fine, we’d all be dead in a day or so. There wasn’t much sense of concern. Knowing you’re dead made it possible not to invest oneself in the ramifications of what was going on. Calmness prevailed. I did ask “Is there a pill?” (to reverse raditation poisoning) I asked an elderly woman walking near me. “No,” she replied. “Ah, well. Nothing to worry about now then.”
Nonetheless, since I was only visiting, I changed the dream into a search for Doctor Who, who I figured would be the one person in the universe who would have a pill to counteract radiation poisoning. I didn’t know where to find him. Eventually I spotted him. He was now a black man of about 35. I shouted “jelly babies!” at him as an elevator door closed him away from me, so he’d know I was someone who knew him (and his favorite candy), but I missed his elevator. The dream got jumbled.
I think this dream was a combination of “A Sum of All Fears” and Terminator 4. It was kind of depressing.