Thursday, March 31, 2011
Another dream. This time I dreamt of the few miserable moments preceding the tragedy.
It was like any other boring drive. She was reading a magazine in the passenger seat while I drove us to the site. The site was far away from everything. We drove past pastures and farms and rotting fences towards our destination. Usually I’d think of the passing scenery as quite beautiful, but that afternoon, I could only feel a sort of stale sensation; a sort of disenchantment with it all.
I think my body knew beforehand, and was trying to warn me. On the way, a mysterious ache pounded inside of my head and my stomach felt a bit light and queasy. My eyes kept shifting out of focus, and I felt a bit hotter than usual. It was a Summer day, but my head felt like it was set up against a stove.
Despite the ache and the pain, I was content. My mind had no idea what was going to happen. It was only another mission to complete, after all. Why would I expect anything different?
Even while rolling up to the house, we noticed nothing. It was a two story cape cod house, in the middle of that field. It was rotting away and collapsing. The windows were all broken but not completely so, and the door was wide open, moving slowly adrift in the breeze.
That was our destination. We were sent there to simply destroy the house. That was it.
We weren’t going to burn it down, we were going to completely eradicate it from the face of the earth. That was it. In and out, right? That’s all it should have taken.
How could we know what was just lurking right behind that door?
As I opened the door in the dream, the dream ripped itself apart.
I was awake and I was covered in sweat. I decided I might as well get up.
I surfed the internet for a while, checked out a few blogs. Then I made myself some cereal.
Now I’m here and writing. I guess I’ll go sit out on the porch.
The sun’s about to rise.