Old man’s day of the triffid-cranes

Tuther night I was fortunate enough to have a dream.

Twas the night before last, and I happened to be a 50 year old man cycling home from a late night paper round. I (as in real me) seemed to be narrating the story to myself in my dream state, but I was also the 50 year old main character. Confused? Excellent.

Anyway whilst cycling home I could see the a silhouette of a man being picked up rather violently by a crane. As I cycled around the corner of the road I could see a group of massive insect/triffid hybrid things skewering people and flinging them across the landscape.

I (who was now actually me and the narration had stopped) ditched my bike and clambered through a hedge row, as the triffid’s came running town the road. I lay perfectly still as they ran past, but then a group of little triffid things (that looked like the wierd dog thigns from the jungle in avatar) diverted off their path, through the hedgerow and ran across the field in front of me. I was terrified but they didn’t seem to notice me and kept running away. Just as they reached the other side of the field, one of them turned around, spotted me, and started barking and running back with the rest in tow.

Frozen with terror a lay watching as the little rascals scampered towards me with the intent of devouring me. Luckily a group of freedom fighters/triffid killer type people jumped through the hedge and held back the onslaught with Ak-47s, they dragged me back through the hedgerow, which seemed to close up behind us stopping the triffid’s from coming through.

I walked through the night with the mercenary types, who were mostly annoyed that they had to waste their time saving civilians, except one woman who was more friendly and told me just to ignore the others. When we got back to their HQ, which was once a school, they were disappointed to discover that all the people they had rescued had spread the word and their HQ was now flooded with people looking for somewhere safe to stay under the defence of the triffid-killer people.

The moaning men where now angry and frustrated but new they couldn’t turn them away, and the nice woman was now worrying about running out of supplies and not having enough room for everyone. I tried to calm everyone down, told them we’d find more food and we could expand the perimeter of the school, even set up tents on the roof…

and then I woke up.

True story.


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