Scream Within A Dream

Dimly I slowly become aware that I’m no longer asleep. When did that happen? I’m not really sure. My eyes become imperceptible slits just enough to perceive a bit of the world external to my body. That level of activity in my eyeballs takes an amazing amount of effort. Holy shit it’s dark. I suddenly realize I am curious. The burning question in my mind is obvious: What time is it? I pierce through an entirely new level of consciousness and become aware my body is in the wrong position if I ever hope to see the clock. What an incredible perception on my part. Some time later I realize this means I’m going to have to physically move if I’m ever going to obtain an answer to my question.With Herculean effort I accidentally elbow my wife in the face (she grunts) as I attempt to leverage my powerless bulk 180 degrees. Boom. Made it. I can finally see my goal. I can see giant chunky crimson letters that cast an eerie glow and miserably fail to chip away at the total darkness. My eyes are wide open as possible to let in light and I stare directly into the glowing digits for quite some time no doubt hoping their photons will eat away my retinas like fierce laser beams. The clock doesn’t show seconds so it doesn’t change very often. There is no sound as each second ticks away and Kiefer Sutherland is nowhere in the vicinity shouting, “Who are you working for?” I finally realize I’m able to read the numbers. They say 3:32. Oh God. I deal with that knowledge for a long time. I desperately wish I’d fall back asleep. But a mole man inside me is pushing me, forcing me upwards. I transcend another layer and become aware of my wife’s knee digging into my spine like a swarthy sweaty hardhat man jackhammering a sidewalk. I feel two massive hairy lumps draped across my legs and generating warmth. My legs feel sweaty underneath them. And even though each moment forces more consciousness down my throat, I find myself in some sort of waking dream. I’m walking on the beach with my wife. Our neighbor is there, sitting at her computer, and Bill Gates is leaning over and giving her tech support. He’s bent forward and all I can see is a bunch of Bill Gates’ ass from behind. Meanwhile I hear him using words like “properties” and “experience” and “click.” What kind of hellish nightmare is this? I look towards the water which is now somehow a river and realize my wife is walking away along a trail. I’m supposed to be walking with her but in the river I see the two largest fish I have ever seen so I hesitate and linger behind. I’m terrified. Basically there’s a lot more just like this but I’ll spare you the verbiage. I keep at it until the clock miraculously reads 5:55 and push my feet to the floor. I notice the floor is the color of green limes as I shuffle my way to the kitchen. The journey is at least a mile. My body knows the motions and goes through them to make coffee and, with mug in hand, I find my way to the computer and pound out this masterpiece. The end.