Bethany and I are outside in the daylight, standing in the midst of a large number of individuals, all interacting and conversing with one another. The place is unspecific and unimportant. There are many people here, hundreds of them. Just standing and socializing, not doing anything in particular.
There’s a large sign here with a digital countdown in seconds and hundredths of a second.
The countdown reaches 20 seconds and a feeling of concern washes over me. What the heck is this countdown for? I address some great being in the air. “Computer, what is this countdown timer for?”
A voice emanates from the air. “Time until detonation.”
The countdown timer reaches 10 seconds, and the ambience turns quieter, as more people direct their attention to the jumbling numbers.
I ask one more time, “detonation of what?”
“The universe,” the spirit finalizes, the echo coming in waves.
As the digits show a steady “0 00”, a wave of quiet settles upon the crowd. Very faintly, a vibration that feels miles under our feet begins, and an eerie deep low bass rumble is both felt and heard.
I turn to Bethany, look into her eyes, and reach out both of my hands to her. In turn, she does the same. I lightly grasp her hands and I feel the most calming, warm feeling. I close my eyes.
Within a few seconds, the vibration becomes a tremor. The rumble becomes a growl.
As the climax of this action from deep within the Earth finally crests, or so it seems, all hearing ends. Everything is absolutely quiet. A vacuum of deafness. I open my eyes and the world is a photograph. Everyone and everything suspended in time.
The warmth from Bethany’s hands creeps up my arms and into my very being. My whole body is enveloped by it. I am now that warmth itself.
Vision becomes a struggle. Everything is hazy, but I can make out something now. Particles. Everybody, everything, even the sky itself are individual atoms separating from molecules, molecules separating from the cohesiveness of their original forms, in an expanding starburst-like supernova effect, except in slow motion.
As the particles mix together into soup, nothing can be distinguished from anything. Except that intense warm feeling and energy, and a now deep blue-purple hue, which is all that remains.
I wake up, or so I think. The wind howls from outside the window. The maple tree outside is fully in motion from the gales racing to lower pressure. The water softener downstairs is regenerating, creating its own unique whishing tune and beating percussion. Is this really the end of the world?
I’m on my back in bed yet. I reach over to Bethany with my left hand as I think she might be awake. I find her hand and grasp of it…the same light familiar feeling I’ve known for nearly two decades. Her hand is so warm and it takes me right back to zero hour. It fully comforts me.
Only a few seconds elapse when Bethany shifts positions and whispers, “I love you”. “I love you too,” I respond softly in return. I grip her hand slightly firmer. All is right with the world after all.
This was a story based on an interesting dream I had Tuesday morning, right around 3 a.m. The pictures were AI generated, the story was not.
We’ve all wondered what the end will be like. I can only hope and pray that the end will be as peaceful, painless, and loving as that final moment I experienced in my dream.
What triggered it? Certainly no drugs or alcohol or chemicals, and nothing happened in life that would have prompted such a sequence. It was just a random, vivid dream. The end of everything everybody had ever become, and had ever built and achieved, yet everything was right as rain. The feeling continues to comfort me even today.
