I woke up quick from sleep in the middle of night. It was sort of light in my room.
I reached for my water, but forgot the cup was empty. I get so thirsty in my sleep.
My dreams only get worse these days, since I've been living like this.
Last night I dreamt of many squirells stealing our peanuts. Really, I was secretly throwing
them, stealing from our collective pile. No one seemed to notice.
When it came time to shack up in our cabins, no one wanted to stay in mine.
You told me that I had to stay in the one with a ghost in it. I walked up the spiral staircase, and yes, everything was made of wood, except the windows. They were a yellowish kind of glass.
I looked around my cabin and strange spots of light moved in quick, darting motions across the room. It wasn't so bad. Wasn't scared. Not really.
When I woke up a second time, I reached for my cup again. "Aw, damnit" outloud.
My mom told me, the other day, she always wrapped me up tight in swaddling clothes when I was a baby. She said, "I wrapped you up tight like a little burrito."
I'm glad she did.