I was visiting ancient ruins in Mexico. We - the tour group and I - were on an underground level of a Mayan pyramid.
Some of the walls were still covered in gleaming white ceramic tiles with Victorian paintings on them, which the tour guide (a 12 year old) attributed to English settlers who turned the pyramid's lower level into a sewer.
Suddenly, some creepy children's heads appeared from under a wooden door, grimacing at us.
Then we all piled onto a 'boat' so that our guide could take us around the ancient Mayan canals, which were now the arteries of a bustling Mexican city.
The boat was actually just an inflatable doughnut with an outboard motor. My legs dangled overboard and my feet were in the water.
We whizzed around the busy canals for a bit, when I spotted some ominous shadows lurking in the water underneath us. When asked, the tour guide casually remarked "oh, those? Sharks."
We passed by some waterskiing American tourists. We happily waved at each other but my smile froze when I realised a huge grey shape was trailing them.
At one point, the guide killed the motor to point out some local sights. Suddenly, two massive sharks appeared behind us. They were about 10m long, dark brown with mottled black, and had narrow piglike snouts. They seemed to be sniffing around for prey. The guide put his finger up in the air and hissed "Shhhh!". Everyone stared at the leviathans but no one moved a muscle. I froze, but was terrified that the droplets falling from my wet hair would alert the marauding beasts. They glided past us and disappeared around the next bend in the canal. We all breathed a sigh of relief.
My family and I are celebrating Christmas/New Year's in the garden. It's a beautiful late spring afternoon. All the trees are a lustrous green and the flowers are in full bloom. The moon is already out, hanging enormous in the sky. There's a sweet, light breeze.
We're all laughing around the dinner table, which we've moved onto the lawn.
Something in the air, however, is heavy and strange. There's a tightness in my chest - a foreboding feeling - but I do my best to ignore it.
Suddenly, our old radio crackles and hisses. The music cuts out.
A male voice, reminiscent of those old BBC broadcasts, interrupts the silence. "Attention - this is an emergency announcement. All citizens are requested to evacuate immediately. Repeat, ..."
Without uttering a word, we walk out into the middle of the garden and look up at the sky. The wind has stopped and everything is still, but I see nothing out of the ordinary.
Suddenly, my sister points up: "there!", she cries. "To the left, right above the moon!"
In a moment of pure horror, my throat tightens, and I see it: a huge grey meteor.
The realisation hits me at once: nothing on Earth will survive.
Without warning, I have an out-of-body experience. My perspective violently shifts, almost exploding out of my head, and rockets up into the sky. "I" accelerate until I find myself in space, following the spinning meteor in its downward trajectory towards Earth.
It's as big as a continent, and is surrounded by small meteorites, none smaller than a city. From up close, I can see all the pockmarks, the creases, the little crags...
It's moving at an unbelievable pace. Each second I watch, the upper atmosphere looms closer. I'm filled with dread.
Suddenly, I blink and I'm back in my body. I lift my head. The meteor is twice the size of the moon now. I realise that we have only minutes left. Minutes!
The inevitability is overwhelming. There is no way out. I have never felt so disempowered.
I stagger back towards the house to find my phone. I have to call my gf and tell her I love her. As I look back, my family is still in the garden, transfixed, wordlessly looking up.
Edited by sirtacos at 08:42:36 31-01-2013
#9329132, By sirtacos What did you dream about last night?
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