The Dreams

Dream 68

Such a gorgeous place. The sky and the ground and all between them were the color of white roses. The people were miracles of grace and serenity.

But its true miracle was that all the friends I’ve had in my life were gathered there, not only the living, but also the dead — though no one seemed the least bit surprised about those. We did not ask them what they had found in the other world, nor did they query us about what has happened on earth since their demise.

We all enjoyed this state so much, we wished it could go on and on. But it did not last — for black clouds descended from the heavens until darkness spread everywhere, separating us from each other. Rain poured down in waterfalls, followed by thunder and lightning, without any respite — until our hearts were in our throats.

Then some of our friends’ voices began to penetrate our ears.

One called out, “This is the end!”

A second shouted, “I see the gleam of an exit on the horizon!”

A third declared, “No matter what, there’s no escaping the final reckoning.”