My house is trying to kill me. Or that’s what I spent the weekend dreaming. It was really odd. Usually, I can tell when I’m dreaming. Can’t always get out of it but when I know, the terror isn’t quite as bad.
Not last weekend. And it was one of those times when a dream didn’t end, just because I’d been up and wandered around a bit. Nope. Started right back up again as soon as I slipped back to sleep.
Generally, when I’m dreaming, the house is distorted. It’ll be my house but it’s not. There are lots of differences. Rooms are the wrong shape or the walls are vastly different. The fence at the end of the yard is missing. There’s a fire escape or the windows are on the wrong side of a room. Not last weekend. There were only subtle differences. Little things altered. Things that were difficult to pick up on as they weren’t things I pay a lot of attention to. Like the magnets of the refrigerator were rearranged. I have all of six so there’s not a lot of arranging to begin with. Or the two tiny decorative mirrors I have that are the same size and shape were switched. Who notices that stuff? Well starting now, I do.
Of course, I don’t think it helped to be wandering around inside the house that just tried to do away with me. It’s a very creative house. I don’t know why it doesn’t seem to like me any more but, if the dreams are any indication, it’s decided that one way or another, I must go. I half expected to get home and find the locks changed. Or the whole thing missing and a vacant lot where my house used to be. How about you? Does your house like you or would you like to trade?
No comments:
Post a Comment