In Search of a Room With No Windows

I stand outside In a parking lot, Feet crunching Against the gravel As I walk toward The entirely flat, Empty landscape Just beyond the lot. It stretches as far As my vision can reach, Just barren, uninhabited earth, Strange and stark With no landmarks Dotting it’s surface. In sudden succession, Hundreds of cyclones Drop from the clouds And crash to the ground, Quickly forming into Whirling columns of dust and debris, Charging toward me. I turn and run, Seeking refuge in the Building behind me, Yanking open the door And proceeding down the hall, In search of a room With no windows. But there aren’t any. Oversized glass windows Line the outer walls Of every room, Quivering and rattling As the cyclones near. I picture exploding glass, Jagged and fragmented shards Flying into the room, Striking me, Injuring me, Crippling me, But there is nowhere else To go. The roar outside Becomes deafening, Like a thousand Freight trains Hurtling my way, And the floor beneath me Begins to shake, Alerting me to my Impending doom. I crouch down, Close my eyes And cover my ears, Only to awaken Suddenly in my own bed To discover it was just a Dream.