2017.10.07. Police Raiding a Native Village Under an Hovering Watchful Helicopter

I fell asleep, and the next I’m conscious dawns on me that I’m hovering with an helicopter view over age old flocculent tree, when from the shadow of the canopies people run wild in all direction on yellow beaten earth reminding of a market place from a crown of surrounding villages. There in the clearing, villagers are running by the change of the wind without sense or direction, as though chased from habitations in pursuit of wild leopards.

In a glitch of time, I land at eye level, and ghostly survey the unbelievable commotion of people coming from all directions and running for their lives, pursued by man in uniform with heavy machine guns. Ignored or invisible by the few men turquoise outfit distinctive isolating themselves in the midst, I didn’t think other than survey at understand the going ons amongst the scattering villagers, and gathering a few of them. Two of the predators in a turquoise outfit, comes across my way pulling by wrapped feet along the dirt, and trailing heavy like dragging rolled up carpets along the ground. to my surprise I figured out three woman individual wrapped up tight, and then again together in the clear pallet stretch wrap of cling film, from which a blond young woman’s long wavy hair lock sweeps in the dirt.

Though there is a surprising discrete of not stirring up more than necessary among the man in uniform strewing fright, and the fear dawning in of the population like a afternoon fog coming down on a mountain. I feel cloudy and shape immaterial in my body, and hopeless alone against a slaughtering of the men, observing in disbelieve to distraction by active shadows in the depth of a native store. Along the store and into the rear woods, distracted I leave the store behind. Capturing incident after the other of an ongoing villager runs from tree to tree a muzzle of an automatic shotgun firring after a dozen of men in the woods falling like trees to the ground.

As I move on deeper into dense forest, the rotor sound of an helicopter above the trees, sought after the escapees, to take shots from above, onto reckoning that the man in uniform weren’t the mere terrorist, fitting a police task force in turquoise uniforms. far distant men in combat uniform come out the woods, forming a front line like professional wildlife hunters, in support of the villagers. The policemen kept an advantage over the army, which leaves me to think, ‘I’ll only be safe to live in this world with man portable surface-to-air missile launcher to bring the police force supposed to protect the people down from the air.’

I came out the dense forest, with lengths up on the police force so vast and scattered in the woods, coming to a house, the word had spread the people had left. Avoiding the road, I descend the hillside in the open sky, to wake up from my dream.

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