I hads a bad dream.
July 29, 2009 § 12 Comments
But what do I do with last night’s thriller? In my freshly-sheeted Atlanta hotel bed, I woke hour after hour, unable to interrupt my dream – a serial killer in my house systematically killing every living thing. During the final nightmare phase, I saw my sister and brother-in-law’s severed heads perched on a bedside table. After the alarm jolted me at 6:15, the dream retreated and I snoozed peacefully for 10 minutes. Finally.
Two thoughts: I know what this means (although I don’t know what it refers to) – it means I am my own worst enemy; and can a poem come from this?
Do you have nightmares and have they ever inspired you? Tell!