When I go to sleep I walk into my bedroom. The lights off. I turn on the window AC, then the fan. I put my water bottle on the bedside table and roll into bed.
I start on my back. And as I drift off I automatically roll over. I have wonky shoulders, from years of lifting weights in my early days.
The things they don’t tell you when telling you to run and lift and punch and lift more is that the injuries eventually come home. Joints that are not happy with shit you did in your 20s. Hips that ache if you sit too long or stand too long because of thousands of miles of running.
I am not old, but the process of getting old sucks.
So I start to fall asleep on my back, then I just let nature take its course. I will roll to the left or the right. Usually.
Last night I failed to roll and had a nightmare where a gargoyle like creature was sitting on my chest. I could see the leathery wings flapping against the ceiling - which is a little odd because my bedroom is pitch black except for the two alarm clocks. In my panic I was working my way backward on my elbows until there was an explosion and the top of the creatures head disappeared.
I had blood and bone fragments in my mouth and was hyperventilating.
Then I looked again. There was a blonde woman laying on the left side of the bed covered in blood, and I had a colt python .357 in my hand.
When I woke up I was backed up against the headboard and my first thought was “where the fuck did that come from?”
I went to the bathroom, drank some water. And started the process of going back to sleep.
And had the exact same dream again. This time I woke up crying.
Deciding I wasn’t going to chance it a third time I got up at 2am and watched TV until I was sure I was too exhausted to dream - about 8am. Then slept the sleep of the dead.
I went to subway for lunch. Wondering what the fuck the universe was trying to tell me.
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