last night
It’s really, really dark because it’s sometime late into the night. And my walls are black. Half asleep, or dreaming, I don’t know.
There are thousands. But maybe I’m exaggerating.
All of a sudden I’m aware of where I am. I’m lying in my bed, under the covers that are filled with tiny legs, fuzzy parts, pincers and more legs. Too many legs. I feel them crawling over me, everywhere. I squirm and kick and scream and cringe when I have to touch them, shove away handfuls from my mouth. But their frenzy overpowers my struggles and they continue to crawl, crawl, crawl on my legs, on my face, in my mouth. I feel them in my tummy. All hundred-something of them scratching down my throat, wiggling in my stomach.
I’m still screaming, kicking and wondering why I can’t get out from under the covers, brush them off in panicky movements.
I feel them splitting through my stomach, ripping me open and exposing all my insides. Moths, spiders, centipedes- all spill out of me. It’s the end of the world, as usual.
I shut my eyes. I know it’s a dream.
There are thousands. But maybe I’m exaggerating.
All of a sudden I’m aware of where I am. I’m lying in my bed, under the covers that are filled with tiny legs, fuzzy parts, pincers and more legs. Too many legs. I feel them crawling over me, everywhere. I squirm and kick and scream and cringe when I have to touch them, shove away handfuls from my mouth. But their frenzy overpowers my struggles and they continue to crawl, crawl, crawl on my legs, on my face, in my mouth. I feel them in my tummy. All hundred-something of them scratching down my throat, wiggling in my stomach.
I’m still screaming, kicking and wondering why I can’t get out from under the covers, brush them off in panicky movements.
I feel them splitting through my stomach, ripping me open and exposing all my insides. Moths, spiders, centipedes- all spill out of me. It’s the end of the world, as usual.
I shut my eyes. I know it’s a dream.