Estimated Prophet

  • Standing on the beach just past sunset with a crowd friends and strangers. We're in some kind of cult, and the mad scientist/guru is in our midst. He has just completed the construction of three ultralaser Doomsday devices with which he intends to bring the Eschaton in an elaborate mass suicide ritual. Picking up the second-most powerful of the three weapons he yells and points it towards the full moon shining directly overhead. The dusk sky is bathed in the entire visible spectrum from starry-blue in the mountains behind and fire out to sea. I watch with sinking dread as the full moon begins to ever-so-gently slip out of position, falling towards the horizon to chase the sun. It runs down the dome of the sky like a bead of water, growing in size and speed before hurtling over the horizon, swollen and terrifying. The mad guru has killed us all! He and his followers are euphoric, anticipating imminent death. In the next few moments violent earthquakes erupt in deafening roar, and soon an enormous tidal wave appears--marching towards us from miles away. I vocally exclaim my fear and unwillingness to be swallowed by the sea. Leaving the people behind I leap into the air, desperately flapping my arms to fly higher and higher. The moving mountain of sea water draws near as I make an aerial retreat high into the Santa Cruz mountains. The mile-high wave breaks against them under my feet as I hang, unharmed, suspended above the chaos.