In order for the world to be saved, four people, including me, had to be fired into space aboard a small 1950s-style rocket ship. The idea was that the rocket would just keep heading out into space forever, and that we would simply die. It wasn't a happy prospect, but we all understood that it was vital work.
As it wasn't important that we stayed alive, the rocket hadn't been equipped with air tanks, food or insulation. Not long after we left earth's atmosphere, the temperature dropped to below freezing, which seemed to kill the three other passengers.
I realised that I'd been hoping for a reasonably quick death, but now it looked like I was going to be around until the oxygen ran out or I starved to death, which was an incredibly depressing idea.
It was horribly cold, and outside the only window there was only black, empty space.
Notes for Freudian Interpretation
This was the closest thing to a nightmare I've had in ages. That same night, I also had another zombie armageddon dream, but I could only remember a snapshot of it -- a crowd of zombies shambling through a ruined Tollcross. I assume I was anxious about something or other, but I'm not sure what it could have been.
I know where the zombies came from -- an article on zombie films in the Guardian's G2 section that I flicked through while I was waiting for the barman in the Cameo (in Tollcross) to get my order -- but the rocket ship is a little less obvious. I suspect it was influenced by a passage at the end of the new League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, which I read that night, in which Mina Murray is on a sort of spaceship heading for the moon on some vague but important mission, and passes by the frozen corpse of Professor Moriarty, still clutching the lump of anti-gravitational cavorite that whisked him up into the sky at the end of the first volume of the League and seemingly doomed to float through space forever. If so, I would appear to have given myself the noble attributes of the heroine combined with the terrible fate of the villain. Perhaps I'm seeking to excuse myself from doing something that I ought to do but don't want to do, and have created a scenario in which my good intentions result in a horrible death as a way of justifying my lack of action. Sounds a lot like something I'd do, frankly.