I just had the strangest dream. Well, it seems all of my dreams are strange and fragmented, like the seperate frames of a cartoon strip. Segway to a mobile home, in a time where I’m much younger, but still the oldest of three children. My brother and I are at home, just the two of us. We’re trashing the place, as usual, while mom, dad and sister are out on the town. I’m aware that we’re living in this trailer out in the country, but don’t really know where. All I can sense are the trees lining a two-lane country road. Anyway, my younger brother and I are preparing for some serious delinquency, with all the “tools of the trade.” Including an old Ford that has been banged up one too many times, but still runs and thrills us with late night early morning escapades.

The strangest character in this dream reveals itself as a demon, who for some reason, is sitting in our master bathroom. A nasty looking creature that came from who knows where, but as fate would have it, is sitting on our “family throne.” Now anyone who has come from a family of five or more (on a budget, no less) will tell you that you don’t monopolize the master bathroom for very long at any given time. So we decide, demon or not, we want our bathroom back and go to battle this demon. However, this turns out to be a solo performance by yours truly. He won’t flush, so I turned on all the lights, cranked up my sister’s hair dryer and fried this thing like a potato on a ceramic pot. First it’s head exploded and that kinda freaked me out. So I backed out of the room, hair dryer shreiking at the top of it’s coils, and slammed the door. Then the room changed around me into a chamber of horrors, like a Steven King thing, where I saw the demon tremble and shake until it vaporized itself into a blazing ball of fire.

After the smoke cleared, I found myself back in the trailer alone. Then my parents got home. How do you explain to your folks that you just burned a demon out of the bathroom? Or the grass fire on the other side of the wall where ol’ smokey made his exit? I grab my dad by the shoulders, look him straight in the eye and say, “Dad, I could never have had the courage to fight him without your teaching me how to persevere!” My dad grasps my shoulders in return, gives me a dollar bill, and says, “Son, don’t spend it all in one place.”

By this time, both mom and sis discover the bathroom in a shambles, and have to use the alternate water closet. I don’t know how to explain this, but that’s the great part about my dreams. They never make any sense, but you don’t fret about the small stuff. Details aren’t that important, as long as you capture the main sequence of events.

I was so compelled to write this, as it’s been a week since my last keystroke, and I’m waiting for the dream to completely fade away, lest it return in my sleep.

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