back in (night)time
The sheen is shifting into week’s end. This has been a long short week in short. As day narrows to its last raindrop, I will transform into a lightning bug and decorate some lonely person’s nocturnal backyard. I will nap there and, when I wake up, the first mirror will frighten me. All subsequent mirrors will be old hats: snagged fedora, paisley beret, punctured top hat, white wig.
Two nights ago I woke in the middle of the night, facing the air conditioner in my window. The moment I opened my eyes I saw the yellow glow of a lightning bug enter my air conditioner from the back and slip down. It swooped out, landing on the dark towel propping the air conditioner, and bounced back and forth there. Finally I cut the voyeurism and rolled over.
Last night I had the second of two dreams containing murder in the last two weeks. I have strange dreams, eerie dreams, dreams containing magical whimsical death, but I don’t recall having dreams made of sheer murder before. The first one was horror film material but nothing gruesome. In fact, I cut it short by waking myself up. This second one was brutally bloody.
To protect the innocent I will not go into detail except to say that I watched a loved one utterly bludgeon and pulverize another person, someone neither of us cared for but whom in waking life would not have punished at this nadir of intellect or humanity. This was animal at deepest hematic root.
The escalation, or the finish? I don’t know what tonight's staunch hand will pull in through the walls.
Two nights ago I woke in the middle of the night, facing the air conditioner in my window. The moment I opened my eyes I saw the yellow glow of a lightning bug enter my air conditioner from the back and slip down. It swooped out, landing on the dark towel propping the air conditioner, and bounced back and forth there. Finally I cut the voyeurism and rolled over.
Last night I had the second of two dreams containing murder in the last two weeks. I have strange dreams, eerie dreams, dreams containing magical whimsical death, but I don’t recall having dreams made of sheer murder before. The first one was horror film material but nothing gruesome. In fact, I cut it short by waking myself up. This second one was brutally bloody.
To protect the innocent I will not go into detail except to say that I watched a loved one utterly bludgeon and pulverize another person, someone neither of us cared for but whom in waking life would not have punished at this nadir of intellect or humanity. This was animal at deepest hematic root.
The escalation, or the finish? I don’t know what tonight's staunch hand will pull in through the walls.
3 Comments:
the second to the last paragraph had me worried.
no need for worry, i don't think. though i usually don't have dreams of this sort. weirded me out a bit.
fark me...so it's good that i'm locking my door at night?
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