AUGURY

illustration by Doug Koempel

AUGURY

I'M WALKING HOME but have to wade across a river. I'm on a narrow, submerged beam. The muddy water is just over the tops of my shoes. It seems as though I've taken this route before. The river is quite wide - maybe 600 yards. I notice ahead that the current seems quite rapid. I wonder if it's safe to continue . . . I realize that I don't have any type of life jacket or anything to cling to . . . should I try it? No, the current seems way too swift. Suddenly I begin to see whitecaps in the water, and a strong wind comes up. As I retreat, I can hear a furious wind blowing behind me. I look back to see huge waves cresting, and the sky is turning black.

I make my way to what appears to be a deserted cottage, and I somehow get inside. The interior seems almost like the lobby of an office building in the middle of a large city. People appear to be concerned about the sudden violent weather. I look around for a TV to see if there are any reports as to what's going on.

As I'm wending my way through this office building, I glance outside - the visibility is zero – everything's obscured by an angry, black wind. And just that quickly the tumult abruptly subsides. I look out at the sky. It now seems eerily quiet, except there is what appears to be a severe cloud formation (much like a wall cloud that you'd see preceding a tornado) - a clear sky contrasted by a grotesque formation comprised of black, roiling clouds. 

I'm trying to make out what this thing in the sky is. As it continues to drift overhead, to my dismay I can see that it is a huge, charred, zeppelin-like rabbit - a monstrosity silently floating overhead as though a hideous float tethered in a nightmarish parade. It reminds me of an insect . . . with a burnt exoskeleton. The area around its right eye has caved in, and there seems to be some type of smoke or debris spilling out into the air from this gaping aperture. 

People on the streets are transfixed in awe and horror as this colossal thing continues to hang silently, now silhouetted against a clear blue sky. An ominous quiet fills the air, and we're besieged by a sense of imminent doom.

I awake with a feeling of dread . . .

From a dream on Tuesday, February 8, 2001 - 4:00 am.