I'm walking up the driveway of a home in the mountains which in the dream is where I live with my parents. My mom is walking with her. I have six pieces of band-aid-like pieces of paper that I say know the future - the future is already drawn on them in ink that appears when they are unpeeled. I peel the first two and they slowly turn into the pattern of the shirt I'm wearing. The second two show the pattern and color of the socks I'm wearing. The last two look like fiery clouds and I remark it looks like a nuclear explosion.
Beyond the last horizon of mountains, we watch a gigantic fiery mushroom cloud form. The blast wave moves towards us over and between the mountains like a time lapse film of fog. We're at the end of the driveway, and we take cover under large shelves of slate. The blast wave passes us over.
As we emerge, two lines of people chained together walk up the driveway, some people are wearing singed clothes, some look like they escaped the blast. The people in front just walk right off the cliff. Some of the people behind them fight to avoid being pulled over, some also just continue walking off the cliff. Last in line is a large man dressed like a lumberjack who calmly walks off the cliff saying to the others, "Just go." His weight pulls the last of them off the cliff.
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