When I drew back the curtains to my second floor apartment at precisely five past eight, I had nothing other on my mind than what I was going to have for breakfast. I noticed that it was a cloudless sky and that the postman was just finishing his deliveries in the square opposite. That meant he would be delivering my mail within five minutes. I also noticed some activity that was distinctly unusual. A strange woman was knocking on doors and gesticulating at people who seemed to recoil from her. She ran from door to door. A few people emerged later with their coats on and quickly made their way out of the square. How intriguing!
The traffic lights were on red, and the flashing green man was pumping away on the spot. A man and his dog were taking advantage and crossing in slow motion, or so it seemed to me.
The postman suddenly looked up with a strange look of horror. It was only then that I noticed the ear-splitting screeching sound. It was incredibly loud - a veritable roar - so how had I missed it? It was getting nearer and I could now hear the distinct sound of an airplane engine spluttering and whining. My apartment was shuddering, and people started to emerge from their homes to see what was happening.
The shock of the impact and explosion was coursing round my body. My heart was pounding pure adrenaline and I was trying to scream, but no sound came. Part of the garden in the centre of the square was laid waste, and I could see that at least five of the houses were raging with fire. The postman was now nowhere to be seen, and nor was the demented woman. I frantically began scanning the scene for the man and his dog, but, alas, they too were missing.
My apartment was far enough away from the danger of a further fuel explosion for me to remain, but the police were adamant that I stay inside and well away from the windows. This, of course, was impossible to do. I was somehow compelled to look out and see the emergency services working together to somehow salvage lives. There was such devastation that it seemed an impossible task. By now several helicopters were in the air and outside broadcast vans were dotted around the perimeter of the crash scene.
I turned on the television in order to get some up-to-date news of what was happening and caught the tail end of an on-the-scene reporter stating that several lives had been saved by a woman who had warned that a crash was imminent and that people should get out of the square. The postman was suddenly on screen and was clearly emotional. He said that the woman had literally taken his postal trolley and ran away with it out of the square. He, naturally, had thought she was quite mad and had run after her in order to retrieve the mail. She then proceeded, he said, to yank the lead from some struggling dog owner and taken it further down the street, where she had tied it in knots to a railing. She had then crossed back into the square and started to knock on the very doors where the plane had later crashed. She had still been knocking on doors when the plane came down, and he was pretty certain she must now be dead.
Now came the lines of people from the plane. They were unescorted and seemed dazed. I couldn't understand why the police and the ambulance crew were totally ignoring them. They were suddenly looking up at my window, waving and calling me down. This was all wrong.
It was only when they started calling me by name that I started with a jolt and woke from my nightmare.
The relief was enormous, although the feeling of doom remained. It took quite some time before my heart settled into a normal rhythm. I looked at the clock and saw that it was only half an hour before my alarm would go off anyway, so I decided to get a head start on the day.
After putting the kettle on I wandered into the living room and drew back the curtains. I was just thinking about making some toast when I spotted the postman entering the square opposite to begin his rounds. It would take him a full twenty minutes to get round the square. It would be twenty-five minutes before he got to me. From two doors into the square a man emerged with his dog to begin their walk, which would normally take them twenty minutes. And suddenly I just knew.
I just knew I had to warn them.