A nuclear bomb went off. I could see the explosion, and I knew, in three days time, the blast radius would hit us. People went insane. Everything turned a rusty orange. But then I was in a field, I knew I had to get home, before I died. I had to see my family, and I was traveling through the prairie on a white sphere, moving effortlessly across the grass, like it was a sail boat and I was on an ocean.
But then I was in Florida, a man with a mustache, living with his mother. There were bird cages everywhere and he, maybe I knew, they, or maybe we, didn't have long.
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