Gathered on the front patio, the crowd clattered silverware and chattered loudly. Sarah and her friends sipped on cooling iced tea and snacked on a small charcuterie board.

A plane flew over, engines roaring. It shook the building as it passed over. The patrons looked upon in shock.

Sarah was stunned, her eyes locked on the plane. The plane, a double decker airbus, seemed to stop and float midair for several moments in the sky, like a blimp on game day.

A collective gasp escaped from the crowd as the plane rolled, dove, and debris started flying. The crowd ducked as debris scattered. Shrapnel flew from the plane as it crashed over the trees in the distance.

Sirens began to fill the air as the crowd shuffled away from their covers. Sarah and her friends began heading toward the crash site to help however they could.

The police had set up a perimeter and buses moved people to staging areas. They boarded the full bus and it pulled away.

The travel to the support site felt as though it took hours. Block after block was speckled with fires and smoke. The damage from the plane seemed to stretch for several blocks.

They passed the fuselage of the plane. Dozens of emergency workers worked the scene. Some survivors staggered among the wreckage.

The bus came to a clearing aside two large fields. Smoke rose from the crops. As Sarah and her friends exited the bus, they were handed small shears. The farmer needed help saving his crops as the roses and ears of corn were needed for the towns festival. They weren’t going to be able to save it all, but anything was better than nothing.

Sarah found it odd. But there were hundreds helping throughout the town doing anything they could. She started pruning the roses, placing them in her basket.

She paused to look at one specimen and as she did, her finger brushed upon a thorn. She stuck her finger in her mouth and tasted blood.

Her body shook and she inhaled sharply, finding herself in her bed. What a strange nightmare…or was she really there?