I am visiting my parents.
I am staying in my grandmother’s old house nearby. It had been used for storage for several years, but it has been fixed up as a kind of guesthouse. It’s older and simply furnished, much as it was when I was a child.
My parents and I sit in the living room, talking about work. I look out the window.
There are many cars rushing down the road outside the house. Strange, ominous storm clouds are gathering.
We turn on a portable radio sitting on a table in the living room.
The announcer on the radio says that a storm is approaching. The county is being evacuated.
“Gather the things that are most important to you and leave,” the announcer on the radio says.
We leave the guesthouse and walk to my parents’ house just up the road. It is the house I grew up in, a house that has not existed in many years.
My mother gathers family photos, some clothes, and my grade school report cards. My father gets some tools, money, and important papers.
I only have a few things with me, since I am visiting, but I can’t find my passport. We look all over the house, in drawers, under beds, and between the cushions of chairs. We finally find it.
I get into my car, my parents get into theirs and we head out into the traffic.
I keep driving behind them, trying to follow in the heavy traffic through twisting mountain roads. Rain and hail begin to fall. The wind picks up. It grows darker.
When we cross the county line, I see my parents stop at a roadside diner to get something to eat. It’s one of those landmarks near my hometown that’s been there for many years.
The diner is crowded with people who are evacuating because of the storm. They talk about it being related in some way to a war.
John is there. He walks around with an antique tape recorder, interviewing people about their experience with the storm.
I want to talk with John to find out where he is going and how he is doing, but I lose him in the crowd.
Amongst the people there are three men dressed as bumblebees. They are drunk and loud, acting like frat boys.
I am annoyed with them.
The place gets more crowded and people start pushing against me. I decide to leave.
I push my way through the crowd reach the door of the restaurant.
I open the door and walk into the parking lot. It is night and a gentle rain is falling. The clouds are beginning to move away.
I get into my car. I hear someone and look behind me.
The bumblebees are in the back seat of my car, still drunk and acting like frat boys.
I am annoyed.
Then I woke up.