Post #4046514

I dreamed about a nuclear apocalypse again. The dream was deeply strange. At first, I was spending time with a group of young people who explained that my behaviour was somewhat outdated and pointed out its “flaws.” Later, I was walking with another group past a massive concrete structure that resembled an abandoned barracks with boarded-up windows. For some reason, I suddenly decided to break into it. It felt illegal, but then someone called out to us, and everyone went inside. After we had spent a little time there, something strange happened. A sound or perhaps a flash of light caught our attention, and I opened a door leading outside. It turned out that a kind of “protective field” had formed around the building, glowing with a faint bluish light. Then it began. Projectiles streaked down from the sky, resembling the hypersonic warheads of the Oreshnik missile system. I shouted at everyone to get down and not look through the open doors or windows. Hell broke loose. The ground shook. There were flashes, explosions, and deafening crashes. It continued for some time. When everything finally went quiet, people cautiously began to rise from the floor, exchanging glances and whispering to one another. A thought crossed my mind that providence had brought us there, that everything had happened exactly as it was meant to happen, that it had all been planned. Someone said that it was the will of God and that we had to “lick the heavens.” Everyone dropped to the floor again and began licking it. Each person had their own “section.” I then noticed small pictures of the sky painted on the concrete, like tiny openings into the heavens. The person beside me pulled me out of my confusion and ordered, “Lick.” Obediently, I began licking a patch of filthy concrete floor on which clouds had been crudely painted. Then another noise came from somewhere nearby. It turned out that some of the people in the bunker were trying to go outside to “save” the others. I approached the door and stuck my face outside. Soft white ash was falling from the sky. I immediately understood what was happening and rushed towards a sink beside the entrance. At the neighbouring sink, a naked man was already washing ash from his body. I realised that he had come in from outside. I grabbed a bar of laundry soap and began scrubbing my face. The full horror of the situation finally struck me. I understood that I had to take control. “Attention, everyone,” I announced loudly. “My name is Henry Fisher. My first degree is in the chemical technology of organic substances and materials. In addition, I was once deeply interested in nuclear physics. I need to explain what is happening.” My voice trembled, yet it sounded firm and carried through the room. I felt everyone’s attention turn towards me. I was ready to explain alpha, beta, and gamma radiation, radioactive isotopes of caesium and other products of nuclear fission, their activity, and the danger posed by contaminated dust entering our bunker. But I could not. My consciousness began to cloud, and I suddenly realised that I was dreaming. My vision darkened, and the “reality” around me slowly disintegrated, dissolving into wakefulness.