…and my wife’s face contorts in pain, her brow furrowed. I ask her what’s wrong but, before she can answer, a wave of distortion ripples through the air like a mirage.
“Something’s happened.” I look out the window and see a mushroom cloud rising in the distance.
The television fills in the rest of the details: Every major city in the US is in chaos after multiple ‘dirty bomb’ attacks.
The footage is terrifying. People flood the streets. Suddenly we are all refugees.
Holding our daughter between us, my wife and I start making plans…
…I wake in the pre-dawn dark, wondering if this dream was just that or something more: A precognition of something to come? Or just a byproduct of sleeping with a sword under my bed?
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