25 Oct 1899

My dear brother James,

I am writing to tell you of a strange dream that I have just had. I realize this is an odd occasion to write to you when I have not done so for several months, but I am certain that the rising of the sun will cloud the vision that I now recall so clearly, and so I write to you now, with some urgency, while the dream is still foremost in my mind. Even now the dream is fading! Without further ado, let me begin the tale.

In this dream, I awoke to the sound of a voice, saying, “Come. I have much to show you.” The room was dark and I saw no one, yet I arose as if mesmerized. Suddenly it was day, and I found myself high in the air over a great city, as if riding in a great balloon, though no such conveyance supported me. The city stretched to the limits of my vision, and there were many buildings which rose high into the sky, higher even than I flew. There were great parks and broad avenues, and on these avenues, gleaming carriages moved at great speed, though no horses drew them.

The voice spoke: “This is how they will travel. As is this.” And he showed me a gleaming metal cylinder that flew through the air! It was larger than a locomotive, and though, like a bird, it had wings and a tail, it did not move them. Rather, it moved as one piece through the sky, suspended by a force I could not fathom. There were windows in the sides of the cylinder, through which I could see human faces! Imagine! Hundreds of people in one of these cylinders, traveling though the very sky!

Then I felt myself pulled into one of two tall, gleaming spires that soared above all of the other buildings in the city. “This is where they will work,” said the voice, but the people did not appear to be laboring in any way. Everyone sat in cushioned seats of strange design, each in front of a glowing box, and rapidly moved their fingers across a flat pad, making a tapping noise. From time to time they would reach to one side of the pad and manipulate a small, curved object, or stare intently at the glowing box. I saw many other wonders in this “work place” that I cannot begin to describe, but the voice said “Come,” and pulled me back into the air over the city.

I was still marveling at the twin spires, when a flying metal cylinder flew into one of the spires, and exploded.

Dear brother, my heart fairly burst within my chest – I knew that hundreds of people had died in an instant, for I felt them die. I tried to scream, but I could not. Yet, every fiber of my being cried out in anguish for these lost souls. “An accident,” I pleaded with the voice, “some human error, awful, but a tragic accident, please let it be so.” The voice did not reply, yet I knew I was to continue to watch, and as I watched, another cylinder flew into the other spire. I felt them die, also.

O, the horror; the despair! For this was no accident, but a deliberate act, humanity against innocent humanity! That our race, designed in God’s image, should yet be capable of such things! I wanted to die, then, myself, rather than live with this knowledge.

“This,” the voice said, “is how they will kill.”

I felt as though my heart had been cauterized. I watched numbly as the smoke billowed up to the heavens and people leapt out of the tower and plummeted to their deaths -- choosing a quick and painless death over a slow and agonizing one in the smoke and fire. And the horror did not end, there, dear James; for before my eyes, the towers fell.

They did not fall to one side like a tree that is cut in the forest; but straight down into themselves – and, horribly, onto the people inside. O James, the pain I felt when the cylinders flew into the spires was as nothing compared to this. Thousands of screams echoed in my mind, tearing my soul apart! Whereas my heart had been cauterized before, now it was ripped from its anchor and burned in that same fire where thousands had perished. To their screams I added my own, pleading with the voice to return me to my safe bed, where such terrors as these are but dreams and not cruel reality!

And then, dear brother, I awoke. I think if I had not, if I viewed that scene any longer, then my sanity would have left me and I would be a babbling idiot for the rest of my days. I sat bolt upright in my bed, my heart seeking to beat its way out of my chest. I arose, and took some brandy to calm myself – do not abjure me for this until you yourself have soared those same terrible skies! – and set this narrative down forthwith.

The sun is now rising, and with it the calm reassurance that such a thing as I have dreamed cannot be. I know of no such place on this earth like my dream city, and I cannot believe that such a thing could happen.

Thank God it was only a dream.

Fondly,
Your twin, Thomas
148 Church Street
New York City