Shattered Serenity

Shattered Serenity

Morning birds serenade my sleeping soul. I lay in my bed with the birds chattering about as they search for their friends and mates after the long dark night. They’re so busy.

Every so often I find myself slumbering in the early morning, trying to take a few extra minutes respite from the day’s business. Swallows dart in and out of the early blue sky, seen only through the lazy slits of my eyes. Sea gulls laugh as they play tag in the air. In the distance I hear the morning bustle of the city grinding to work without me. Boats are heard meandering up the river, but my head is much too comfortable to rise from my soft four-poster feather bed with its milky white sheets and downy comforter to gaze upon them.

There is a hint of a coming cold winter in the air; an edgy exhale, a river breeze, flowing over my face. When I breathe out, I can see my breath in the morning sun through my half open eyes. As my breath floats away from me and passes between the rising morning sun and my unfocused eyes, it creates beautiful patterns and designs. It’s like looking through a prism. For minutes, I play with the design by altering the amount I squint into the rising sun. Open them a little more then close them a little more. The design before me changes like my own kaleidoscope.

I’m more relaxed than I ever remember being before, and I think I can lay propped up on my bed of pillows forever. Bliss. Serenity. It doesn’t really strike me as being at all unusual that my bed is outside or that it is situated dead-center on the main runway at National Airport in Washington, D.C.

Tranquility is shattered and my reality is splintered. A roar suddenly enters my head from the sun in front of me. My eyes are jolted wide open, but I’m blinded by the full sun’s glare. The gentle breeze becomes a wind rushing at me. Somehow I briefly elevate above my bed to see myself sitting up in a four-poster bed squarely in the middle of the busy landing strip at National Airport. The Potomac lays beside the runway with rush hour traffic streaming across. Planes are stacked up awaiting take-offs. More planes are stacked in the sky awaiting landing.

Back in my bed with my eyes blinded by the sun, the roar grows louder and louder. It can only mean one thing. At that very moment of realization, I see a dark shadow emerging from the sun. Giant wheels and the underside of a huge Boeing 747 are within inches of pulverizing me like the monstrous Godzilla squashing me with his massive left foot.

With virtually no time to react, I scream as I dive out of the bed and roll, hoping to create enough space between myself and that crushing metal beast.

“AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH”

The plane finishes its landing and smashes the bed just mere feet away from me, pulverizing it into tiny pieces. I am left laying on the runway breathing in and out rapidly, still alive!

“HEY! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!...HEY!!...”

“A big jet was about to land on me…” I mumble.

“I don’t care. Get back in bed!”

That’s usually when I wake up. I’m always on the floor. I’ve always just kicked the devil out of my wife, and she’s always unhappily awakened from her peaceful sleep. Sometimes I find that the next morning I’m bruised all over from diving out of the bed and smashing into the furniture. It’s really one of the more embarrassing nightmares.

I slink back into bed, roll over onto my side for better protection, and try not to think about jets.