In 1988 I had a series of dreams about nuclear annihilation. The first one was situated in New York. the sirens sounded the alarm and thousands of east Villagers headed to the subway for shelter. There wasn't room for all of us. Someone pointed to the sky and I could see a black missile falling earthward.
White flash.
The next was in Moscow. The populace filed into trains with calm order and got off at the next station to allow other passengers to continue their hopeless exodus.
White flash.
The third was at a Siberian airfield. I was making love with a Red Air Force female pilot. The sirens sounded once more. She excused herself from my embrace and ran to her bomber parked outside the dacha. I watched her take off moments before mushrooms clouds rose over the tundra.
White flash.
I liked the last dream best, but I always thought you weren't supposed to die in your dreams.
Guess I was wrong.
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