I Died In My Dream

I have been on a quest to dissolve my ego and last night I had a dream that I died, my first one.

I was one of many passengers crammed into an airplane.  We hit turbulence, hard like the belly of the plane scraped across a mountain top.  We began descending in a spiral.  Over the PA the pilot calmly said, “I’m sorry, we are going to die.”  We hit the ground.  There was an explosion.  An boomerang wave of atomic heat accompanied a magnificently bright ball of translucent light that trembled with an energy I’ve never felt and couldn’t describe, but it pulled my body towards a fiery-orange brimmed white circle that pulsated in silence. 

The entire moment happened in a fraction of a milli-second.

I awoke and jumped out of bed and ran across the room.

“I’m not dead.”

I think.

Author: robert radKe

two nights after bj draKe died, robert j radKe was resurrected from the dead, involuntarily admitted and institutionalized and now frantically spreads light and melts crayons overtop of the smudgy grayness that bj draKe suffocated from his old, happy life.

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