Being random – the result of a severely disrupted sleep schedule and some funky cough syrup, I suspect – but felt like sharing this one.
Last night, I dreamt I was dead. Not dead, dead, of course, but ghostly. And part of being a ghost was being given assignments to haunt specific people. The guy I was supposed to haunt was strung way too tight, far too easy to mess with. A few bleeding walls, a wail just as he was getting down to serious sleep, switch his coffee for decaf, that sort of thing. Then he left for a while. I wasn’t allowed to leave the haunt location, so all I could do was wait for him to come back.
When he finally returned, he was a ghost, too, all soggy, blue skinned, fish nibbled. Obviously a drowning victim. I asked him what happened, he tells me “I was piloting the Titanic. ”
So, yeah. In my dreams I caused the sinking of the Titanic. Don’t know what to make of that one, but it’s better than the Amityville Dream or some of the other recurring nightmares I am subject to, I guess.
I should really be working on Ioudas or Little Miss No Name. I’ll get on that.