I was tasked by my chain of command to take a loaded truck with supplies to a port area, next to a channel of water. I parked and waited. I don’t know what happened, but while I slept or while I was at the mess tent, I’m not sure which, it was a mess tent I’ve been to many times. The line is always long, and just past it is the tarmac. Back at the truck, somehow the truck was raided, I couldn’t tell what was left or not, all the doors were cut off and cut into pieces and screwed to the outside of the truck. For some reason, I knew they had done it because they knew that if they kept the doors on the vehicle, then I wouldn’t notice all the havoc they had caused. I didn’t see anything missing but somehow with everything in such a mess all over the back and in the cargo I knew that I didn’t know if anything was useful anymore and just not knowing was a problem because I had to know what was available for who needed it and where it was so they’d get it as they passed, without the ability to expressly give it, they’d miss out. And I saw the army coming, ours, getting ready in position for what’ll be here soon. I remember hearing the voice of my fellow soldiers from the briefing before speak to me now: “You’re going to have to deal with this now.” As I lay waiting at the end of the day, in worry and in a painful half-sleep, I saw this orange glow come into the truck. It was looking for me, speaking to me; I heard it speaking about me, as if it were speaking to itself, while it was close and on its way. It came in and moved around above me, pulsing as it spoke. I remember what it said, but I don’t share it. It’s something that I feel like I’ve waited lifetimes to hear. It made me feel alive, bigger, almost as if before this, my spirit was sinking deeper into myself and becoming smaller to sense and further distant the deeper it went. And this just brought me up not just to the surface, but surrounding myself or my body, being bigger than it, and covering it.
