Bad Dream

Relief came in the very early morning hours.
3:48 a.m.
Finally.
The twisted green sheet was in agony from
a vice-lock grip.  It seemed the air had
stopped circulating and a strange chill
filled the dark room when his eye lids snapped
open and he stared, wide eyed, into the
blackness.

A foul fragrance drifted on the oscillating
fan breeze.  When he lifted his damp
head from the sweaty pillow, released
the captive bed sheet and took a long, deep
breath, he whispered to the universe,
“Thank God that dream’s over.”

Waking from a bad dream is a great relief.
Waking from a very bad dream is like strolling
into heaven to find that the streets really are
gold paved and there’s a donut shop on every
corner.

Get the light on as quickly as possible, make
sure the back door is still locked, dump coffee
into a paper filter, pick up the half read copy
of Murder At Midnight, put it down quickly,
speak to the giggling coffee pot
(words unprintable)
wait.

About 2 p.m. he will remember his 3:48
experience, note that normal had now
replaced the nightmare, and wish that
it all worked that way
in politics.