We were all sent home from work as Russia was just about to begin a nuclear attack. I was driven into the city centre at crazy speeds by a female colleague in an old battered Peugeot hatchback. Later, when closer to home I met another, older former colleague from a different job. She was distressed having just attended a funeral. She hugged me and asked me to buy her two blank reels of cine film, 15mm and 16mm. I tried to explain the difficulty of this request and headed for home. On the way I passed a BP filling station about a mile from where I live. There was a bed on the pavement outside so I crawled in and tried to sleep. A Polish sounding girl, a stranger, started to hassle me about when I would find the film. I explained that a war was about to start and tried frantically to find my home number on my iPhone. This is a recurring theme, being unable to make my phone function in dreams. I seemed to reach home as the dream faded.