This is a recurring dream I had until I turned 30, and then it stopped.
Always it begins the same. . .there is a warning, somehow I recieve it, over the radio, perhaps I see the contrails in the sky. It's war and I have 20 minutes to get out of the city. . .there is traffic chaos, many people are electing to stay. . always, as I get to the edge of the city the bombs go off, once, crouched behind the concrete foundations of some house on the edge of Calgary, super bright lights reach fingers around me, the initial gust that blows the shrapnel of houses, glass, steel. In another dream I have reached the edge of Edmonton, forested ponds, people naked in them swimming, then boiling alive as the bombs go off.
And perhaps the most odd, In London, Clapham, leaving my house to try and escape the city, a warning via radio, everyone on the street is having a garage sale, I can't resist; there are all sorts of Antiques, I am torn, the urgency to escape the city, the possibility of discovering some antique treasure, a bargain, the vendors don't seem too concerned. . ."After all, you can't take it with you . . ." one of them jokes. . .
I should note these are not nightmares, just dreams. Some more curious than others, but again, I've not had a dream of nuclear destruction since I turned 30.