I was sitting in a diner in Washington DC. I discovered that I could flip the right side of my seat up. When I did, I found a dirt-lined hole underneath, and it was filled with bugs.
Most prominent were huge centipedes, about a foot long, coiling and scuttling. I closed the seat in horror and wondered how the diner could get away with such an infestation, but did nothing else about it. The scene felt very much as if it were the continuation of a previous dream from some time in the past, but I couldn’t remember any such dream.
Shortly afterward, a large group of people started filing into the diner, wearing suits and dresses, carrying papers and notebooks, and made their way down into the basement. The last person in was president Obama, and I suddenly knew that the diner’s basement was now the headquarters of his government-in-exile, but knew nothing else about the situation.
Flipping the seat back up, I found some of the centipedes had grown to over two feet, and their eyes were now glowing like multicolored jewels.