Yesterday, I groggily made my way to the toilet in the depths of night. I heard a strange noise upon entering the hallway, but I didn’t know what it was.
When I passed the fire-alarm, though, I figure it out. The noise was the ringing of the fire-alarm bell. I had no idea what might have caused it, but assumed it couldn’t be a real fire-alarm triggered by a real fire because I couldn’t hear the sound of the alarm in my roomit was that faint.
Call me crazy, but I supposed that a real fire would trigger a loud, LOUD alarm. Apparently, I was right: I checked with the woman at the front door outpost about it, and she told me that the soft alarm was for when someone leaves the dormitory, or enters it, after hours.
But the ideas triggered by the sound must have gotten into my dreams, because when I woke, a series of images lingered in my mind, strange sequences in which I looked at the dormitory from above, aflame; and later, I saw the whole of the campus on fire, and all of Jeonju, nestled among the mountains and wreathed in black smoke and writhing fire. It was as if I was seeing them from a helicopter or something, or perhaps from the back of a fire-breathing dragon. And I had the weirdest feeling of relief that we’d gotten all the students out before the fiery explosion that consumed the dormitory had spread to the whole of the city.
I don’t know why I usually recall a lot from my dreams, or absolutely nothing; but this time, it was just those strange, slowed-down images of me looking on Jeonju, on campus, on the dorms, all from above, watching in horror as they burned and burned and burned.