I, Death

Sunday September 9, 2012 - 12:09 AM

I had another one of those bizarre dreams last night.

Again, it was a foggy night and I was in this field, carrying a scythe and trying to catch up with this stranger who was walking quickly, moving faster than I was, and disappearing off in the distance.

Like before, there was this feeling that there was someone behind me. I could hear this noise, soft at first, then louder, perhaps as the wind shifted, or it got closer to me.

It was the unmistakable chaotic shouts of an angry mob.

When I turned to look, I could see them, about a hundred or so metres back, some of them carrying torches and too numerous to count. In the same way that I could tell the stranger ahead of me was getting away, I knew that they were gaining on me, and would be caught up to me in a matter of minutes.

I turned to look ahead for the stranger, but she was gone again. Yes, suddenly the stranger was a woman.

When I turned to look for the mob, they were suddenly gone too, but standing a few metres behind me were two of my friends.

One of them was holding a rifle and both of his eyes were hanging down on his cheeks by the thinnest of sinews, swaying as he walked as if they were trying to look at me. It was Donnie. That much I could tell. The other one’s eyes were also popped out and his mouth was open, slowly leaking a steady flow of a thin red fluid. His hands were moving in a strange little dance, fingers wiggling. That, of course, was Jag, and I realized that he was doing air guitar and his mouth was moving to the lyrics of the Viscous Pigs song.

I froze in place, staring at them.

Then, as they stalked closer, I started crying for their forgiveness.

When I woke up this morning, I kept thinking about the mob moving towards me in the distance.

It reminded me of this scene from the old Frankenstein movie. No, not one of the versions that was true to the book, like the one where Robert De Niro played the monster, but the really old one with Boris Karlov.

Uncle Bob’s being a movie buff can be a cool thing. He’s shared many of his critiques about movies with me over the years — although I have to admit it’s been a couple of years since we both sat down and watched one of his classic movies together.

I wonder if we might be able to do that soon.

I think that rather than try to sleep tonight, I'll dig into his dvd collection and try to watch a movie. I'm kind of afraid to dream like that again.