Beating a dead horse. With a baguette.

[flippingpoodle]

I was hired to work as a stable hand. As I mucked out the stall, I was informed that the horse that lived in it was dead and buried. I had to either resurrect it or stand it up as if it were still alive. I was taken to its shallow grave on a hill, beneath rows of bricks. I briefly thought that it was strange for a one horse grave to be marked by two headstones. I was instructed to dig with my hands, but I kept trying to walk away. Some other people lifted the bricks that were over its head and neck. Its fur was black and matted. Another girl appeared and stuck her fingers between the cracks in the rest of the bricks. "I can feel it's heart," she said, "It's exposed."
I screamed, and its eye opened, a swirling blaze of red and orange. It stood up and came for me. But it wasn't what it seemed. The head and neck had two human legs. So did the other half. I suddenly understood, and then walked into my next dream.

An optical illusion dangled from my fingers. It was a spinning, rainbow colored orb, changing to a bowl, and then to a rose. There was a man there, in a white room. I kept begging him to look at it, but he only looked through me, and then wrote me a check. Then I woke up.

Also...

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