Balls and Walnuts
more than you ever wanted to know
Another one
I didn’t get to sleep until after 5 AM* and when I did, I had one of those terror-full end of the world dreams. At one point I recall looking in the bathroom mirror, wondering if I was dreaming, but it wasn’t the insightful “Is this a dream?” question that always yanks me from the dream, it was the “Is this a dream?” question you ask when things are going to hell and you wish half-heartedly that it would be a dream.
That we were living in my grandparents’ old house on Atlantic should have been a clue. Or the pet bear, but we’ll get back to him in a moment.
I was in the living room, looking out upon a darkening sky. There was a storm coming from that direction but it was like no other storm: horizontal rain, the droplets hitting the window like pebbles. As I watched I realized these were indeed pebbles, and the pebbles grew larger, had traces of light as if they were tiny comets. The sky had turned black. I realized the window wouldn’t last so I hurried Karen and the pets** into the kitchen (at the back of the house) and told her, “Good thing I bought a 2.5 gallon water jug yesterday, but I’m afraid there isn’t much to eat.”
Whereupon our pet bear, big and shambling like an overgrown dog, looked at the cats and Karen and me and said, “What are you talking about? There’s plenty to eat.”***
I blame Discovery Channel, or Animal Planet, or whatever Karen was watching yesterday. There was a bit on a trained bear that had bit out its trainer’s throat, killing him, and another bit speculating about different end of the world scenarios, such as the meteor that’s going to almost miss us in 2028.
The scary thing about the dream was not knowing what had happened. I went on the computer and was surprised to find power still working, the internet still functioning, but there was no news. And so we passed the time, waiting with our cats and talking bear, while I was torn between waiting for the inevitable and venturing back into the living room. To watch.
Like the Cowboy Junkies sing, I just want to see what kills me.
D.
*Insomnia from hell, despite giving up all caffeine and chocolate, doing cardio for a hour yesterday afternoon, and taking my usual meds.
**Sorry, Jake, but my subconscious spared you from this end of the world fantasy.
***I pointed out that by the time he’d finished off Karen and me and the cats that the rest of the population would be dead or, at any rate, inedible. He appeared non-plussed. My logic had defeated him.
