Jeremy Dennis is Jeremy Day (cleanskies) wrote,
Jeremy Dennis is Jeremy Day

the end of the wold

A dream this morning in which I was peripherally involved in the destruction/diversion of a relatively large asteroid. A piece came down in central Oxfordshire, cutting a gouge through a tidily representative portion of the county; urb, suburb, housing estate, industrial estate, farmland, village. There was irritation alongside widespread relief that things hadn't gone worse; we'd had warning enough to clear the area, and the displaced groups were in a large set of units that the economic downturn had left fortuitously empty. They were angry, and reasonably so; what had happened was exactly what we had been trying to avoid. We'd been trying to bring down the pieces in a way that wouldn't cause inconvenience to our population. But still. Anyway.

There were committees about what to do. Although our piece had not been so bad (like a huge flat skipping stone, it had slid perfectly along its predicted trajectory and embedded at an angle in the rich Oxfordshire soil) it was becoming increasingly clear that other bits had not done as well. There was a constant sense of crowd and confusion, although I think that was just people living in a more concentrated way than previously. There was a constant state of environmental upset; no sudden changes, just a steady and sinister decline. By this time I was a bit more evened, as I'd taken (along with a lot of other government workers) the option of going grey, of being zombied. It wasn't as bad as all that; you retained your faculties, and (quite contrary to the popular image of zombieism) you didn't need to eat at all. You could, but it was a bit pointless, and by this stage the food shortages were quite bad, so a) it was convenient for all that we didn't need to eat, and b) the food wasn't really worth even tasting any more.

Many of the children, older people and people with families had stayed human, and they seemed to have a lot of meetings. I was called into one where they wanted to know whether I wanted to display my ticket (it was significant for some reason, I forget why) and if so whether I wanted (some older guy) to prepare it for display. It all seemed a bit trivial, and I wondered if something else was actually going on, like getting greys onto the committee.

P.S. I'll return to my weekend in a bit, but in brief: I attended the Goblin King's masquerade ball as a dinosaur-hunting aviatrix with motodraconis, visited (and was visited by) a variety of friends including j4, girlycomic, tinyjo, went to an OMD concert at the New Theatre and danced like a maniac on the top balcony, went to the funeral of my dear friend badasstronaut, weeded the back bed and mulched with homemade compost and attended the Punt, Oxford's marathon midweek multi-venue new bands gig night. But from my dream, it's time I got back to work.

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