Celestial Omens

Two ominous encounters this month (I've forgotten the precise dates as I'm now back-blipping). The more recent was short but powerful, like a trailer for a nightmare, an apocalypse dream.

The sun was either coming towards us, or us towards it. I opened the front door and saw it, big (though not spectacularly so) with steamy brown clouds racing across it. I actually felt its oven-blast on my face, and heard a growing thunderous roar, at which point I woke. Come to think of it, this dream was even more recent, so this is both a back and forward-blip. 

The earlier nightmare occurred while I was awake. I was taking Lola for a walk in the nearby park. It was dark, near teatime. We ventured onto the grass field in the larger section, which is only peripherally streetlit. I was shouting at Lola (to get the ball, drop it, etc.) when I heard what might almost have been a gruff echo from the far side of the park, near the deserted playground. I heard it again, and when I looked over saw a man's silhouette approaching. He appeared to be making a bee-line for us, emitting those gruff, wordless shouts every few beats. Tourettes possibly, and he was probably (as your man says in Beckett's Murphy) 'John of God's, a hundred percent harmless...'  But I was quickly becoming unnerved. No one else about, just myself and the dog (who didn't seem bothered), and this strange man striding with purpose across the dark grass directly towards me, making those regular, incoherent grunt-shouts. His obscurity was also disturbing; no way of seeing what he looked like or if he was carrying a weapon. Straight out of an M.R. James ghost story (James's ghosts are always malevolent and occasionally faceless). 

Lola still hadn't had a proper gallop so I didn't want to head home yet. Instead, I decided to turn right, into the lit suburb nearby, parallel to the block of apartments along that side of the park. I heard the man heading off in another direction, around the lake it seemed, into a different part of the same suburb. I waited a few minutes then walked to the part of the park near the playground, from where the man had originally come. I threw some more balls for Lola then finally headed for home, this time taking the streetlit path. 

As I approached the little artificial lake, my cousin Pat called me. He'd been waiting at the house. I told him where I was and he said he'd come to meet me. I began to tell him about my disturbing encounter and was actually imitating the noises the man had made, when, right behind me, I head that almost-echo, and there he was, approaching me again, but much closer this time, only 30 or so yards. 

However, I was close to the edge of my own neighbouring suburb so I just walked out of the park, glancing behind to see if he was following me into the streetlights. With relief, I saw Pat approaching. No sign now of Mr Noise-Maker. I told Pat what had just happened and we decided to go and look, not to challenge the man of course (who really was probably harmless), but out of a kind of curiosity. Also, I wanted Pat to hear those odd grunt-shouts himself, and maybe see if it was what I'd thought, Tourettes, though how we'd determine one way or another I don't know. And wanted a witness, because there seemed to be something quite unreal about this encounter.

No sign of the man, and no sound of him either, which seemed odd. Walking back out of the park, I saw a sudden brightening flare of light in the sky, a meteor burning up, leaving a trail of fire-spittle, very possibly the brightest I've ever seen. Something to wish on, or sign off.