Lucid Dreaming

 A family is gathered outside. They're staring up at the sky. The moon is visible in daylight. It's smoking, exploding, cracking, and the earth is changing it's mind made up of thousands of years. I join the spectators. My eyes can't believe what they see. Debris is entering the atmosphere. I snatch a piece of hot debris with my bare hand. It hurts, but the shock overwhelms the pain. I look at it, my hand burning up. It a piece of placard with the date inscribed. It marks the day man landed on the moon. The nations are burning with brimstone. I hear Tom Waits in my head singing, "Books of Moseesss, brimstone news! Books of Moses keep me writin', writin' baaack to youuuu." I hear REM. It goes, "Niiight swimming deserves the quiet niiighht." The dream skips ahead.
  I land in Rolla along the train tracks I used to meditate on out of escapism. No one could find me out there. I used to put a quarter on a track, step off, and wait for the train to smash it. I'd wait for the train, it would come, smash the quarter, and I would stoop to look at it. This was my test to see the if the president was more handsome and approachable afterwards.
  The scene was very different after the moon went. I was like Bilbo finally coming back to the Shire, overtaken with thugs and varlets. It was like Christ walking into the temple. The train was overtaken with crooked merchants, in strange suits, selling all manner of futuristic contraband. The scene had ice, snow, and water, existing concurrently but not harmoniously, doing things water just shouldn't. I remembered how the moon dictates the sea, tidal waves, and suchlike. An oddly uniformed merchant accosted me. "Do you want sex for" - I couldn't make out the currency he was trying to impose upon me. Sex was the last thing on my mind I think.
  The dream skipped ahead. I looked up at the starless sky, covered in black film. I sit huddled, and I willfully gracefully perish. That was the kick. I awoke still wearing my lucky navvy pea coat with  my boots still on from class. My hair was standing up in places it ought not. Jack peered in with a concerned gaze. I saw him quite clearly. "Jack, what happened to the moon," I said, rubbing at bleary eyes. "Chris, were you dreaming?"
 "Yes, damn, I just realized that."