Dream

I was driving along the Interstate. I was on the loop (more of a bypass) that cuts diagonally from South to East below The City. It was pre-spring, or maybe spring had just started. In any case, thunderstorms dotted the sky this afternoon broken up by periods of wonderful springtime sun and warmth.

A shower had passed over recently, the roads just now starting to dry. Conditions were stormlight, as a particularly strong thunderstorm was moving southwest backed up by a wall of clouds. I no longer remember where I was going. I forgot all about that when I saw the car driving towards me on my side of the highway.

I had actually had this happen before. Once while coming home from college I was starting the descent from a particularly high rolling hill (picture a mile of highway straight down the slope to the floor, before starting up the next hill). It was an old couple, who had apparently taken the wrong ramp to get back onto the freeway. I was scared for them, because the closer they drove to the crest of the hill, the less time other motorists would have to evade them.

The couple confronting me now look somewhat younger, but still just as confused. There is some construction further east, where both directions of travel are thrown from one side of the highway to the other. A barrel was probably out of place, and this driver took what looked like the correct merge.

I swerved to avoid him, as he was all over the road avoiding other drivers. As I got around him I could see up the road a wake of taillights and vehicle debris in his wake.

I hauled on my brakes and pulled down into the median strip. The grass was slick but the ground still firm and I found myself skidding. I released the brake, cramped the wheel, and executed a nice parrallel slide-out which left my vehicle pointing toward the southwest and almost perfectly centered in the strip of grass.

I’m feeling smug about my tactical driving skills – something I rarely have enough opportunity to exercise – as I climb out of my car. Moving to the rear of my vehicle, I am fiddling with keys with one hand when I glance up and look down the highway. I believe the vehicle that was heading the wrong way has wrecked, not too far down the road, but not also before running several other cars off the road.

I happen to be in a stretch of median without anti-crossover cables or guardrail. Looking in the direction of the where this accident ended, I see at least one car slammed up against a guard rail on the inside lane. This car is now oriented like the offending driver – it is pointing against traffic flow.

Inside my trunk I find that my high-gee spinout has popped the top off my tiny first aid kit, and supplies are scattered about the carpeting. I don’t feel like I have time to repack the kit, so I settle on grabbing a couple of guaze pads, a roll of bandage, the universal shears, and a pair of gloves.

It starts to sprinkle as I lower the lid and I debate whether or not to leave my keys in my trunk, in case I need to send someone back for more supplies, or that my vehicle needs to be moved. I decide to leave them, and begin to jog-walk toward the car against the guard rail.

I hear sirens and see an ambulance approaching on the highway. It is passing the vehicles at the end of the wreck and moving further up the highway to tend to victims who have been hurting longer.

Tired of writing:

Go help woman, she is freaked because I’m not EMS. Run up hill and climb fence to elementary school just off highway. Find friends, ask for help. Tornado sirens go off, everyone goes to gym. Rule is no one is to leave gym until all clear is given, and anyone who does leave doesn’t get readmitted, so I walk in and out of gym and I’m a rogue now. Get chased by tornado — not black tornado, not visibly formed. But can see it by its debris, which is occasional, meaning it is forming and fading and forming and fading. It knocks down powerlines seperating me from building entrance and from highway. I jump them like an olympic gymnast, and still get a little shock. I run back toward the relative safety of the gym for a moment, then head back down the hill to help traffic victims, and to recover my car.

Observation: Tornado is invisible, and was anticipated = upcoming problems will be unseen but anticipated, will recognize their effect.

No debris actually hurt me, except one tiny shock. I ended up outmaneuvering it; I won.

Its a good omen, I think. *g*