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Dr Strangelove
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I was in the fifth grade at the time of the Cuban Missle Crisis. That week the school frantically organized several air raid drills. We were supposed to file out of the school then head home as rapidly as possible. I lived a mile away from school, up a steep hill. My dream was that I would start up the hill, then see over my shoulder a black speck flying across the sky. Having a bad feeling about the object I would begin to run up the hill. I would look back over my shoulder every few seconds and see the speck comimng closer and becoming more clearly a bomb. Making a last dash for the top of the hill the entire world would explode into a sheet of white light.
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