Dream #153: Time-Traveling Imp

06.10.2010 § Leave a comment

I try to save Nagasaki from the atom bomb by hiring a time-traveling imp to level the area just below ground zero to help cushion the blow. Miraculously, it causes the bomb to hit the ground without even exploding, though in a quite volatile state. Unfortunately the imp’s furtive curiosity leads him to tamper with the unstable shell, triggering the explosion.

Then I go to a Deftones concert at my little sister’s high school, checking my computer and monitor, which they stash behind a plaid tablecloth at the ticket booth. Despite the efficient, casual and courteous manner in which this is executed, I regret having not simply carried them in with me, since I’m already late and missing the opening two songs which are my favorites and the ones I’m most excited to see performed (obviously I’d done my homework and prepared an annotated setlist printout).

Not that it really matters anymore, though, when a giant placenta is flushed down the hallway, drowning everyone.

Afterward I prick the middle joint of my right index finger with a thumbtack, and half-assedly resolve to shift my position so that the natural clutching of my hand would no longer drive the point to the point that it broke my flesh. My resolve is too weak, however, to prevent a subsequent stab, which actually goes all the way through my finger, leaving a hole big enough to see clear through, bigger in fact than the thumbtack itself.

My mother is not impressed with the wound at all. She’s rather disappointed in me and especially my pride in it. But I don’t put much credence in her opinion. After all, at the bake sale, she had capitulated with my sister and gone for the butter roll buffet, making her quite fat.

I’m back at my previous home, but I can’t even remember the layout of the master bedroom and bathroom, specifically how the bed and closet are more a part of and past the bathroom than the other way around. My colleagues are staying with us, along with one of their girlfriends. I’m going to go take a piss, and I’m hoping that she sees me naked and recognizes that I’m unashamed of my merely average manhood. I mean, we are collaborating on the development of a pill that makes you so smart that you gain telekinetic control over the shape of your genitalia.


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