Nightmare
I had a terrible nightmare the other morning that I still haven't managed to shake. Not nearly enough.
Besides being horrific, It was creepy -- creepy because of the quietude of the region in the nightmare, creepy because it had people being forced to do unthinkable harm to themselves without so much as a murmur of complaint.
Aliens, who looked just like people, had taken over what was left of humanity -- apparently they'd wiped most of us out, and were keeping the rest as slaves . . . or toys. They never smiled, or scowled -- at most they wore a slightly frown, and didn't show any emotions. They were able to take over our minds and make us do things to ourselves and others we'd never in a million years have done otherwise, and they did it to use such incidents as cautionary lessons of what they would do to anyone who resisted them, or tried to escape . . . or bored them, which, eventually, most of us did. I watched them cause two men to set their own heads on fire, using accelerants; the men just stood there after starting the blazes, not making a sound, carbonized head first while the rest of us had to watch . . . or else. And throughout it was so quiet, so quite, so few human beings, so few aliens, wild growth starting up all over in most places, lush and full after heavy rains and the onset of summer.
Why can't I shake the damned thing? I get past the worst nightmares, always, but for some reason I can't get over this one.
Besides being horrific, It was creepy -- creepy because of the quietude of the region in the nightmare, creepy because it had people being forced to do unthinkable harm to themselves without so much as a murmur of complaint.
Aliens, who looked just like people, had taken over what was left of humanity -- apparently they'd wiped most of us out, and were keeping the rest as slaves . . . or toys. They never smiled, or scowled -- at most they wore a slightly frown, and didn't show any emotions. They were able to take over our minds and make us do things to ourselves and others we'd never in a million years have done otherwise, and they did it to use such incidents as cautionary lessons of what they would do to anyone who resisted them, or tried to escape . . . or bored them, which, eventually, most of us did. I watched them cause two men to set their own heads on fire, using accelerants; the men just stood there after starting the blazes, not making a sound, carbonized head first while the rest of us had to watch . . . or else. And throughout it was so quiet, so quite, so few human beings, so few aliens, wild growth starting up all over in most places, lush and full after heavy rains and the onset of summer.
Why can't I shake the damned thing? I get past the worst nightmares, always, but for some reason I can't get over this one.