It started with Agnes Carruthers, or rather with her cat, Pickles. He looked her calmly in the eyes and said, “They are coming,” then went back to washing his pink nether bits. She tried to warn her children, but they thought she was going senile and ignored her.

Then there was the sudden appearance of several hundred bicycles at the top of the Eiffel Tower. They were all lime green with battery-operated lights and squeeze horns. The monument was shut down for hours as the police removed the offending conveyances, to the dismay and confusion of tourists.

Other nuisances major and minor presented themselves, but no concerted effort was made to discover their source until the destruction of Tokyo by Godzilla. That the monster was supposed to be fictional did not escape the notice of the global community, who demanded answers.

Agnes had the answers, because Pickles had given them to her, but she kept them to herself. How could you explain to an entire planet that their only salvation was to stop dreaming?

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