Distant Early Warning

Grace sat up in bed and brushed the last strands of sleep from her eyes. The alarm on the console emitted its screeching pulse four minutes behind schedule. Grace glanced at the console display with raised eyebrows. She was sure the tune was accurate according to the atomic clock, as were all electronic devices, but her internal clock told her it was supposed to be four minutes sooner than what the console displayed. Part of this was because she had stirred slightly when Roger’s alarm got him up for work at seven. She didn’t notice any discrepancy in the time then, but she was half-asleep and in the middle of a dream.

As she wafted into the kitchen and prepared her breakfast, the memories of her dream returned to her in flashes, like finding and connecting pieces of a puzzle. She remembered the broadcast channel on the console flashing an emergency signal, a warning of unusual weather patterns. The words “RED ALERT” echoed in her mind, repeating seemingly without an end.

Crazy dream, she thought, scratching her head and laughing to herself as she passed the kitchen window on her way to the relaxation room. The window overlooked the beach that circled their house. Grace stepped into backwards and looked out the window a second time.

The ocean, normally lapping at the shore in a serene, almost programmed rhythm, stood deathly still. The were no waves or any signs of current, as though it had completely frozen into one giant block of ice. And on the horizon, a violent formation of coal-colored clouds gathered and reeled into a tornado.

Grace blinked. Maybe thinking about the dream had affected her conscious mind, making her envision the change in weather. Even after blinking and shaking a few times, the tornado and solidified water remained.

Grace teetered into the relaxation room, her head spinning from what she saw. Dropping into the plush seat of the relaxation-inducing pod, her first was not on starting up the machine, which she needed now, but on Roger instead. Had he seen the weather in the distance when he left for work? If he had, why didn't he wake her and show her what he had seen?

LYRICS

An ill wind comes arising
Across the cities of the plain
There's no swimming in the heavy water
No singing in the acid rain
Red alert
Red alert

It's so hard to stay together
Passing through revolving doors
We need someone to talk to
And someone to sweep the floors
Incomplete
Incomplete

The world weighs on my shoulders
But what am I to do?
You sometimes drive me crazy
But I worry about you

I know it makes no difference
To what you're going through
But I see the tip of the iceberg
And I worry about you...

Cruising under your radar
Watching from satellites
Take a page from the red book
Keep them in your sights
Red alert
Red alert

Left and rights of passage
Black and whites of youth
Who can face the knowledge
That the truth is not the truth?
Obsolete
Absolute

The world weighs on my shoulders
But what am I to do?
You sometimes drive me crazy
But I worry about you

I know it makes no difference
To what you're going through
But I see the tip of the iceberg
And I worry about you

The world weighs on my shoulders
But what am I to do?
You sometimes drive me crazy
But I worry about you

I know it makes no difference
To what you're going through
But I see the tip of the iceberg
And I worry about you

Absalom
Absalom
Absalom