Bombing Dream
I had a dream last night. It’s odd that I’ve been dreaming more lately. I used to never have dreams. Too afraid. I mean, the last black guy who had a dream was shot and killed. Not sure about you guys but I’m actively trying to avoid having that happen to me. That’s why I stay inside all the time. Short of a robber breaking in or my roommate going postal, I think I’m safe. Anyway, back to the dream. I dreamed...dreamt…not sure which one it is. Whatever. I imagined that the neighborhood I was in got bombed. I saw some family members die. Neighbors lose their loved ones. Buildings turn to rubble around me. We tried to escape. Some of us got away. Others weren’t as fortunate. I was, for once in my life. But good things that happen to me aren’t allowed to happen and my dream knew that. So I was traveled back in time to just before the bombings. I wasn’t sure what I should do. Should I warn those around me? I could try and save their lives. But what if, in the process, I change thin...