I was in my old backyard, where I grew up, with my dad and his friends. Guys from the neighborhood - some of my friends' dads. It was early evening, like waning twilight, and suddenly the sky began turning beautiful shades of purple and green. We all thought it was an aurora and started moving towards a clearing to see better. Everyone was so excited because we'd never seen one. Colors, especially purples, were so vibrant and they MOVED and pulsed. Then we started to hear screams, faint at first, but growing louder. My first thought was that old people in the neighborhood might be overwhelmed by the sight and dying, but I was wrong. An army of flaming Indians began to pour across a hillside not too far away. It was their fiery glow that had colored the sky. They weren't like, people on fire - they were made of fire. As they charged toward us, my dad and his friends started to run in different directions. I moved slower, sort of still watching as the fire cavalry advanced towards us. A single, fast, riderless horse, completely made of fire, sprinted right at where we were. As it passed between me and some other guy, I could feel the extreme heat. That's when I woke up.
