Dreaming

I am in Ashcombe; there is a feeling of a disaster has taken place and a rescue mission happening. A car has crashed through some railings and gone into the water. 

There is a rocket that is about to take off; my children all get on board, but I am scared that it will crash the same as the car. I don’t want any of us to have to get on, but we don’t seem to have a choice. I climb on board with Tom – the children are already seated at the front of the rocket. The man in charge tells Tom and I to go and sit further back and to the right. We go through to an area where we take the right fork; this area has private sections with beds, toilets and bath. I can see people using the facilities. We work our way to the back of the rocket and take a seat. It is quite luxurious, and I feel bad and guilty that we are sitting here in relative luxury while the children are alone without me there to comfort and protect them.

The car crash comes to my mind, and I now know that this took place on Friday night – it’s now a couple of days later. There were two men in the car; they had been drinking, and we know they will be dead. I don’t know why no one attempted to rescue them immediately, and now it’s too late. I feel certain that when the bodies are found, I will know these men; I have a feeling they will be my age.