Last night I had a dream that Armageddon had arrived. It was dark outside, right around the hour of the wolf when it began. Without warning, the blinding light of pernicious war machines pierced the darkness. The sacred silence of the night was shattered by the harrowing sounds of death. My head began to throb as the reverberation of ballistics echoed in my head. As I was brought face to face with my mortality, I began to panic.
And then I woke up.
My panic quickly gave way to mortal dread. The clock read 3:30 a.m., but instead of darkness, my bedroom was filled with a light so brilliant as to be worthy of the Transfiguration. The sound of heavy artillery only grew stronger. I quickly realized that my dream was no dream at all. Bewildered and in a daze, I headed to the window. This is what I saw.
That’s right. It wasn’t Armageddon after all. Just the department of public works.