Judit. What’s wrong? Did you have another bad dream?
Tamas. It was definitely vivid. I dreamt that I was in an airplane with a briefcase of plastic explosives, but I was not going to detonate it on the plane. I had another target to use it on, but I was so nervous they were going to find the explosives on me. Some security guard came by with a dog sniffing passengers’ hands. The dog was going to smell the plastic on me. It knew. It was just waiting until he got to sniff it on my hands, in my hair, on my clothes. In case I was caught, I was ready to explain to the security personnel that I was not going to use it on the plane; that I was going to use it on something else; that I’m not that kind of person. I would never blow up a plane, but then there was an explosion in the plane. I could feel the heat sear into me. I could feel debris from the blast pelt me, and then the airplane tore apart. The wind shear caught me and carried me outside the broken frame. But the explosion wasn’t from my briefcase. It was from somewhere behind me, but I didn’t find out who. I knew it was someone, but I was falling from the sky. I didn’t die from the explosion, but I wished I did because I did not want to wait till I slammed into the ground below. I closed my eyes and tried to at least go unconscious, but I could not. I was out of control. I was going to have to wait to die. That’s all I remember.
Judit. You don’t remember if you survived the fall?
Tamas. Of course I wouldn’t. I was falling out of a plane.
Judit. It was a dream, Tamas. A dream.
End. Falling From a Dream