Tuesday, September 20, 2005

Chopper Nightmare

The other night I had a nightmare. I was driving my new Jeep down a main drag in the city. A big boulevard, six lanes. The street ran on straight ahead, toward the heart of the city. Tall buildings on either side. The traffic around me wasn't too heavy, but on up six or eight blocks ahead, you could see that all the lanes were packed with vehicles.

Then up there several blocks ahead, I could see something emerging from one side among the buildings, hovering in the air over the boulevard, hovering over all the vehicles. It was a large helicopter, a chopper, with two helicopter blades, one up front and the other slightly higher toward the back. It looked like a chopper from the war in Vietnam, like something I remember seeing on the evening news back in the 60s when I was a kid.

Even from this far back up the boulevard, I could see traffic up ahead had ground to a halt, motorists terrified at the whirling, beating spectre overhead. Then on my car radio I heard the morning traffic crew, warning about a chopper over the city, stolen by terrorists.

And now the chopper turned in the air and was moving down the street. Moving toward me. It hadn't opened fire... yet.

For an instant I thought of trying to turn off onto a side street. Or maybe shifting into reverse, and backing down the street. But no, that might single me out, and make me an instant target.

Now I had shifted into park. The chopper was coming closer, now only a block away, and advancing toward me. I could hear the beating locust noise of its blades.

Now closer yet, the shadow of the chopper was on the road only a few yards in front of my hood. And advancing. Instinctively I bent over, leaning across into the empty passenger seat, hoping this would make it harder for them to sight my silhouette inside my Jeep.

But they could open fire on me at any instant. And likely would.

Now the chopper was hovering, paused right overhead. Right above the roof of my Jeep. The whirring of the blades was deafening. It was right above me, a chopper like Vietnam, piloted by terrorists.

It was unthinkable that they wouldn't open fire on somebody.

Then I woke up in the dark, panicked, sweating.

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2 Comments:

Anonymous Lucy said...

Lol. You're the blogger most likely to make me post a response on my own site because its too long and/or weird for here.

Wednesday, September 21, 2005 12:31:00 PM  
Blogger Paul Burgess said...

Oh, gee... :-)

Yeah, I have very strange dreams, and sometimes weird nightmares— all part and parcel of my "radioactive core meltdown of the imagination" dating back to when I was six.

Though the percentage of nightmares dropped dramatically in my early twenties, for some reason right about at the point where I sensed a call to ministry. Will have to blog sometime about some of my early nightmares, which occasionally included hypnogogic and hypnopompic hallucinations.

Wednesday, September 21, 2005 1:12:00 PM  

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