A Bad Dream
A bad dream. Woke up broken into cold sweats. How long have I been asleep? Felt my forehead. It looked like I was having a fever.
It was just a bad dream. I shook myself from the daze. Back to reality. I heaved a sigh of relief. The last nightmare I remember I had was when I was touring Italy. It had the same theme - betrayal.
In this dream, a colleague of mine whom I was close to suddenly denounced her friendship with me. ``D, I can't be friends with you?''
``Why?'' I asked.
``I can't tell you. I just hate you. I don't want to be friends.''
She returned to her desk to work on her story, about a lion which just escaped, and causing a series of death around within the last one hour. She managed to secure an interview with the lion. (yes, the lion. it is afterall a dream. in dreams, lion can talk). Reeling from the shock, I heard her over the phone giving my name to the lion. She said,'' You want your next victim? Here's one. Go for her.'' Her last three words were piercing cold.
She wanted me killed?! I was shocked. I picked up my bag and ran.
Questions. More questions. Popping in my head. I couldn't think. My heart was palpitating. I was worried that I couldn't run too far with my fibromyalgia. What if I collapse?
Just then, someone shouted,'' Hop in? I'll help you.''
A friend. He was driving a truck, inching close to the pavement I was running on. A friend, I murmured, yes.
I hop in and he drove off at top speed only to come to a screeching stop at a red light. The lion caught up with us. He pounced on the window of the driver seat and roared loudly.
I watched the lion displayed his sharp teeth. There was no fear. I had only questions in the head, watching him angrily tapping the window with his strong paws.
When will the red light turn green?
My friend wind down the window and spoke to the lion in a foreign language which I couldn't understand. Whatever he said seem to work, though. The lion stepped away and onto the pavement at the side of the road, leaving some space between the truck and its majestic body.
My friend turned to me and grinned. I tried to smile back, but rather weakly. Just then, he grabbed me by my collar and yanked me out of the seat and out of the window towards the lion.
I didn't scream. Just shocked. And I woke up. I wiped the pearls of sweat on my forehead. I was down with a fever.
The phone rang.
``Quick, D, I am at the Mackers. What do you want for breakfast? I am at the counter already.''
A colleague. I am loved. Glad to be back to reality.
It was just a bad dream. I shook myself from the daze. Back to reality. I heaved a sigh of relief. The last nightmare I remember I had was when I was touring Italy. It had the same theme - betrayal.
In this dream, a colleague of mine whom I was close to suddenly denounced her friendship with me. ``D, I can't be friends with you?''
``Why?'' I asked.
``I can't tell you. I just hate you. I don't want to be friends.''
She returned to her desk to work on her story, about a lion which just escaped, and causing a series of death around within the last one hour. She managed to secure an interview with the lion. (yes, the lion. it is afterall a dream. in dreams, lion can talk). Reeling from the shock, I heard her over the phone giving my name to the lion. She said,'' You want your next victim? Here's one. Go for her.'' Her last three words were piercing cold.
She wanted me killed?! I was shocked. I picked up my bag and ran.
Questions. More questions. Popping in my head. I couldn't think. My heart was palpitating. I was worried that I couldn't run too far with my fibromyalgia. What if I collapse?
Just then, someone shouted,'' Hop in? I'll help you.''
A friend. He was driving a truck, inching close to the pavement I was running on. A friend, I murmured, yes.
I hop in and he drove off at top speed only to come to a screeching stop at a red light. The lion caught up with us. He pounced on the window of the driver seat and roared loudly.
I watched the lion displayed his sharp teeth. There was no fear. I had only questions in the head, watching him angrily tapping the window with his strong paws.
When will the red light turn green?
My friend wind down the window and spoke to the lion in a foreign language which I couldn't understand. Whatever he said seem to work, though. The lion stepped away and onto the pavement at the side of the road, leaving some space between the truck and its majestic body.
My friend turned to me and grinned. I tried to smile back, but rather weakly. Just then, he grabbed me by my collar and yanked me out of the seat and out of the window towards the lion.
I didn't scream. Just shocked. And I woke up. I wiped the pearls of sweat on my forehead. I was down with a fever.
The phone rang.
``Quick, D, I am at the Mackers. What do you want for breakfast? I am at the counter already.''
A colleague. I am loved. Glad to be back to reality.
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