It was an early winter morning when I awoke in sweats. I hadn't had any coffee yet, and I had a killer headache. I pried my eyes open and noticed I was moving. Something was wrong. I wasn't at home. I'm moving, in some sort of vehicle. Am I dreaming? Where the heck am I?
I look in the sideview mirror and see the highway fade away behind me. I'm surrounded by desert and raging skies. I can't seem to see who's driving, but he or she is getting us out of here fast.
Odd patches of flora are scattered randomly across the highway. The highway is never ending.
Abandoned junk yards with Jesus statues and old farm machinery sit collecting dust.
Well hello to you too. Some sort of abandoned casino...
A deserted town on barren grounds surrounds an unfinished bridge.. A bridge to where?
The car keeps on driving, and I can't help but notice symbolic electric posts, row after row.
The skies fight to cover the sun, but enough light pierces through the clouds to reveal rubble, and remains of some sort of stone architecture.
Still, some signs of life exist in this bone dry desert. And as I start to appreciate and understand where I might be, the vehicle stops.
The next thing I know, I'm out of the vehicle, running flat out towards a wide, glass station. Looking at the panels, I spot broken reflections of the sky as the sun begins to pierce through the clouds.
I am rushed quickly into an aircraft.. "Project I.S.O.".. what the heck does that mean?
I rub my eyes to see clearer, but I'm already on the aircraft. Across the empty aisle I see sky.
I hug up to the window next to me and admire the snowy mountains and blue sky. I can hear the soft hum of the propeller and begin to feel safe.
But then the aircraft tips momentarily and seems to change its course. I stare down at the vertebrae of dirt mountains that seem to end with the sky. The edge of whatever this planet is, cannot be seen.
As I trace the deep scars on the mountain face, I spot civilization. Organization.
A cyan body of water sits in the middle of this colony.
The aircraft drops to a reasonable altitude to allow inspection of the well structured community, segregated in grid-like fashion. No vehicles are seen on the roads...
An odd body of silver-green liquid separates this inhabitable territory. The grid community begins to break apart into a chaos of empty structures on the other side of this lake.
The aircraft continues to hum along and I see another body of silver water between clouds.
And then I notice the landscape begins to change. Odd patterns begin to emerge in the icy ground, like a venous network but without clear direction.
What used to be a community with roadways is now abandoned.
A deserted runway is spotted nearby with this odd marking adjacent to it, perhaps new ownership.
And then finally, and suddenly the temperature drops. I exhale and see my breathe hit the window. The last thing I see is...
And then, I wake up. I have a sip of coffee. I have no headache today. I crawl out of bed. It's nice to be home.