The Apocalypse began this morning. I am sure of it; I dreamed it, and as I rarely dream of anything at all, I rely on the few I have to tell me the truth.
As it began, I wore a blue beaded jacket I found in some ruins, and stood together with others as we tried to work out details of sanitation and shelter. I was alone in that no one I knew was with me; not alone at all as we cared for each other’s needs.
At one point the air was filled with strange and majestic music as a pickup truck drove swiftly by, followed closely by a garbage truck driven by uniformed cops, a few of whom rode on the sides as well.
They did not look at us, and as they passed the music faded from the sky and the first night of a new age began to fall.
I do not recall any more of this, but I am afraid and hope-filled at once; all this before breakfast, before the second cup of coffee.