I had a really awful, realistic and harrowing dream last night.
In my dream, I was watching BBC Breakfast with Sian Williams and Bill Turnbull (the dream team, my favourite presenting duo). As I was watching, Sian was in the middle of some generic morning news, then a producer type lady came into the shot and handed Sian a piece of paper.
Sian blanched, her face drained of colour. Bill looked at her and swallowed, hard. She took a gulp of water, then looked the camera in the eye and announced that the UK were now officially at Nuclear war with China and Russia.
Then the screen went blank and was replaced with a high-pitched buzzing, the kind you get when the test card used to be on TV late at night on BBC2.
The screen flashed and popped, then a video began to play. Patriotic, solemn and morose, the story unfolded in front of me about how the world was due to end and how the end, as it were, was nigh. The film finished just as the screen faded to black and a shrill, honking alarm began to ring out through the morning.
It was my alarm clock, and it awoke me, alarmed.
I still can’t shake that eerie sense of foreboding that I woke up with today. The fact that a few chaps were arrested under the terrorism act near the Sellafield nuclear power plant this morning was a bit unnerving, and my dream probably had something to do with the news about war, terrorism, Osama Bin Laden’s death and other such news.
Still, I really hope it wasn’t some sort of preminition.