Whenever my life is about to change, I dream of tornadoes. I rarely remember the dreams I have at night, but if I take a nap, I tend to remember very vividly. Another good reason for naps... Anyway, I've never seen a tornado in real life... having lived in Kansas since I was four or so, I've retreated to my basement countless times, but have never seen the real thing. My prophetic dreams are dreamt years ahead of time like snapshots that tip off a deju-vu that's a conglomeration of words, what I see through my eyes, the smell and how I feel. They're always strong and keep me from speaking for a bit, but they're never that illuminating, I just remember that I dreamt being just so, looking at this, talking of that...
Now these tornado dreams are very particular. I'm always in my house, which is never actually my house, but one that I know is mine. Occasionally I'll dream of my mother's house. Sometimes I go outside, and sometimes I stay in, peeking through the windows at the tempest outside. It comes raging in, and always misses my house... it goes around, gets sucked back up, jumps over... so much so that now in my tornado dreams I am cognizant of the fact that it won't hit and that I'm not in danger, though they make me very unsettled.
A couple of days ago, it was the same kind of dream, but now, instead of the tornado twisting in, my house started moving. Like a ship. This time it really was my house, and I was in my bedroom, which is up over the garage. I was just watching my neighborhood move past my window, rising and falling slightly. My house was moving away from the storm, and carrying me with it. This feeling of impending doom was gone, I was just curiously watching it, and wondering where it would settle down. Then my two year old burst into my bedroom demanding to speak to Oobie (my fingers as a puppet) and it was over.