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Dream of: 20 September 1996 (2) "Reading The Future"

I was sitting in the living room of the House in Patriot. Several members of my family, including my brother my brother Chris were in the room with me. In my hand I was holding either a book or a magazine. I was reading a story which appeared to have been written by William Faulkner, or at least the writing reminded me of Faulkner's style. It seemed some other members of my family were reading the same story, and we were taking turns reading out loud. The only problem which I noticed was that every other set of two pages was written in Russian, which no one was able to understand. I was uncertain whether the Russian writing was a completely separate story, or whether the Russian writing was supposed to be read along with the story which we were reading.

Suddenly I heard loud noises outside, like several shots from guns. I knew at once the origin of the shots and what they meant. It seemed as if I had already read a story which described what was about to happen, a story which also vaguely seemed to have been written by Faulkner.

I knew from the story that the shots were being fired by German soldiers who were attacking Patriot. The event would be a tragic one. Even though World War II had ended just a few days ago, these soldiers would pass through the town, killing everyone – everyone, that is, except me, for I was the only one who knew what was happening and could escape.

I knew I must not delay. I stood up and without saying anything to the others, I walked out of the room, noticing that Chris looked right at me as I left. I headed for the next room and to the stairs which led to the second floor. Everything was clear in my mind. I would head to the upstairs, then climb up into the attic. I knew of a place at the rear of the attic where I could lift up the floor boards and hide. While everyone else in town, including my own family, was being slaughtered, I would survive.

But once I had reached the second floor, a confused jumble of thoughts and images afflicted me. I could see the future, how I would climb down into the hole and survive, just as I had read it would happen in the story. But now I wondered about other things. In my mind it looked as if there was more room in the hole than I had thought. In fact the hole seemed to lead to a dark hidden room where there would have been space for several people. Was it possible that I could have saved the other members of my family? I was haunted by the way Chris had helplessly looked at me when I left the room. Could I have carried him upstairs and helped him escape? It was a terrible feeling to think I could have saved them, but I hadn't. I knew I had acted almost automatically, almost as if I had been in a trance, only thinking of saving myself, just as I had read it would be done in the story. I also knew that I had acted properly, that it was my knowledge of the future, by having read the story, which saved me. Yet I was still tormented by the thought that it might have been possible to have saved the others if I had simply tried.

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