On eating Harry Potter.

The greeting on my homepage speaks of living a mediocre midlife, “now with added global pandemic, climate crisis, and escalated tensions between nuclear powers”. These often end up in my dreams, including the following two from Wednesday night.

  1. There are a bunch of people in a freakishly-oversized motel room. I go to look out the window and embedded in the overcast skies are at least three mushroom-style clouds, nearly the same color as the sky. The middle one turns darker and begins moving toward us, crackling with energy. I warn everyone to take cover, and I do so with two other people on the floor behind a bed. The cloud hits the room with furious shaking and noise. When it’s over, there is a noxious smell. Everyone is rushing around checking for damage and injuries. Down the hall out the back door of the room there is a sort of combination gymnasium and dining hall that’s also used for other recreation. Doctors are there setting up, as are people getting ready for a meal. One doctor looks up at me and says, “If anyone has tickets to reading Harry Potter tonight, they should cancel.” I reply, I guess in what’s both a mishear and apocalyptic gallows humor as both doctors and diners share the same space, “Eating Harry Potter? Have we come to that already?”
  2. A television studio is being trashed by a gargantuan storm, with monsoon rains and hurricane winds. Rain is hurtling horizontally. The anchors and meteorologist are scrambling as the on-screen chyrons fall and crash as heavy objects in-studio. All is chaos.