Two nights ago I dreamed I had foreknowledge of two acts of terrorism, one of which was going to end my son's life. Agonizingly, I was unable to foil the plan without bringing down much more death and destruction - the only way to minimize casualties was to allow my son to be killed along with the hundred or so other people. You see, terrorists were going to blow up two airplanes after take-off. I can't even describe the emotions I was going through trying to justify allowing this to happen, but preventing this one comparatively minor act of terrorism seemed the kindest, safest way to save lives.
Two groups of people departed opposite directions to board their respective aircraft. I was dismayed when I watched a group of armed men mow down the passengers with automatic weapons prior to them reaching the aircraft, and though the group seemed to die suddenly, I was jubilant my son was in the other group, where they were just going to detonate the plane once it was airborne. I preferred a quick, painless death for him. I stood there, watching him board with his entire Kansas Air National Guard squadron, wistfully, painfully.
And was subsequently mortified when they launched the aircraft with the large cargo door still open, sucking out these young men and women one-at-a-time from altitude until the entire squadron was decimated. I didn't know why they chose that method, but it was horrific to watch, and know I was party to such a violent act.
That unpleasantness behind me, the very next night I dreamed I was in an airport, waiting for the series of incompetent ticket and gate people to figure out their shit. Apparently, I knew they were going to fuck absolutely everything up the moment I walked in, so had allowed plenty of time to compensate. In short, I was early, and unhurried, and not even frustrated as I knew ahead of time they were going to somehow fuck everything up. It started with misprinting my name on my ticket, which unsurprisingly now did not match my identification, so I was in queue to get that sorted.
At one of the airlines waiting area an entire cadre of sharp-dressed flight attendants wearing WWII-style dark gray airline uniforms and perfect hair turned around in their seats which they had arranged to look like aircraft seating, began a bit of a stage play themed safety briefing, jumping and twisting in their seats musical-style all the while talking about exits, flotation devices, and emergency procedures in their sing-song voices and perfect makeup. Soon they had added lighting modifiers and waves of black felt to simulate a lighting storm right there in the waiting area. It was quite an impressive display!
Then, using a bit of black and orange streamer surrounding a hoop, they simulated an explosion in the hull in the midst of the thunder and lightning - the captain was running from the cockpit and exploded in a loud concussion of red and silver confetti - it was now chaos - screaming, running; flight attendants being sucked through the hole in the fuselage. We were no longer in the waiting area of the airport, but experiencing a terrifying air emergency we probably wouldn't survive.
Then the screaming stopped, and the sing-song voices ceased and all the perfect flight attendants were sitting in their waiting room chairs smiling alongside the captain flashing his perfect teeth. It was a safety briefing after all, and though everything was back to normal, I was most decidedly not, still huffing and puffing with the adrenaline of horror coursing through me. I found the entire thing so very unsettling, I wanted to know why the hell they would do that in a goddamn waiting room.