It is Coming


Then there were the dreams, dark broodings shadowed dreams that seem to hint, to suggest, to portend. Even the most pleasant dream of, say, a summer’s day spent by the river had a dark cloud somewhere in it, a portent of the storms to come. Most dreams, though, were of the darkness itself; of shadows and dark places. There were things people could sense in the dreams hiding there, moving in the shadows, crouched and waiting.

As the time went on, people began to mention the dreams, tentatively at first to each other. Then the media got hold of them and all of a sudden there were seemingly endless TV programmes, newspaper and blog articles, all about the dreams and how – it seemed – everyone on the planet was having them, or at least some culturally-specific adaptation of the dreams.

For some of the religious, of course, the dream presaged some sort of final time, the time when their saviour of whatever it was came back to do what ever it was he – and in some cases, she – had long ago promised to do, but never as yet ever done.

Others made plans to welcome our alien overlords, mapping out landing fields and debating endlessly in their blogs and chat rooms about who would be the best ambassador for the planet to make first contact with the aliens when they arrived.

Scientists too, checked the data on everything they were running, earthquake monitors watched avidly, volcanoes checked for the first signs of eruptions, CERN monitored its sensors and shifts increased in nuclear power stations and nuclear submarines.

Everyone was expecting something, and the longer the dreams went on, became more frequent and more vivid, the more we knew it was coming.

Published by David Hadley

A Bloke. Occasionally points at ducks.

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