I woke up this morning, stared at the ceiling, and thought, "What the hell was that?"
I dreamed I was the wife of a dictator, sold into the marriage by my unfortunate parents who wanted money to buy a yacht. The dictator (who looked vaguely familiar but I can't pin his face) in turn used me for "diplomatic relations" between countries: selling me out as the "peace treaty." Many children resulted from these "peace offerings" and they became mini-assassins, stalking through the night, killing rebels and the infidels of the nation.
They all looked like little china dolls, with porcelain smooth faces and plastered black hair that hung straight from their scalps. But beady little blue eyes that glowed in the dark.
After a few foggy events and a lot of killing, I ended up pegged on the "most wanted" list for no reason other than that I was getting old and my face was wrinkled. So, in the middle of the night, I woke to the sound of my own child breathing in my ear and turned to meet her crystal eyes, knowing:
I was about to die.
And then I woke up.
1 comment:
I wrote about a dream, and I told you cookies are better than ice cream, but it did not post, and I am too lazy and frustrated to write it all up again.
The point is cookies are better than ice cream
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