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Friday March 30th 2012, 9:25 pm

We’re terrified and cowering in a shadowed closet, a very poor shelter from the horrors outside that I instinctually seem to know are there. I step out as quietly as possible. I gesture to Wendy to stay put. Gazing around the place, I don’t recognize where we are, some strange house. It’s about mid afternoon judging from the level of light coming in from a nearby window. Needing to assess the situation, I very discreetly shove the frail pale lime green curtain aside to peak out. Oh god, oh god! They’re everywhere, we’re surrounded, no way out of here. My throat chokes up with fear. Startled, I hear a noise, and turn to see another couple flopping themselves on a worn down dirty gold color couch, the type you might’ve seen commonly 20 years ago. This couple are wrestling around making all kinds of racket. The woman, maybe in her early fifties, has dark hair and dark eyes, laughing a slightly drunken sneer. She wears simple jeans and a dark long sleeve knit shirt. The man she’s playfully roughing it with seems younger, with short brown hair, shirtless, ratty old jeans, and he too, is laughing. They’re both acting as if nothing is wrong, when death lurks just outside the door. I tell them to keep it down, we’ll be heard. They laugh some more. I take another quick look past the curtain, noting the window is smudged, the afternoon golden white sunlight glares across the grime adding some obscurity to my vision. Looking outward, in the immediate greenery yard area, are numerous walking grotesques, dead people reanimated somehow. Oh shit, one of them is only a few feet away from the window, eyes black as rot, but I don’t think it sees me. The thing’s blank expression, disturbing in it’s lack of coherency. Some of staggering dead have gaping wounds caked with blood and gore, while other others barely have faces left, their skin, whats left of it, blue spotted grey. They stumble around somewhat aimlessly. I can hear muffled sounds of moaning, and gnashing of teeth.

Looking up past them to the near roofs of this run down neighborhood. I see something even stranger and possibly more horrifying. There are maybe five dozen or so, what looks to be, giant spiders. They’re hairy like tarantulas, but with much longer thinner legs. They’re all in a wide variety of colors, some are pale browns, some whites, while others are grey with black spot patterns like a leopard. It feels as if they’re stalking the once human, zombified things. They all face downward toward the yard areas, motionless. Their positions, crouched, give the impression that they’re waiting for some signal or command, about to launch an assault.

Another laugh grabs my attention. Turning to face the strangers, acting as if they’re on some drug, I notice more of the room. The walls are an off pale yellow with large stained areas. There are dirty dishes with crusted on food laying around on the floor, along with colorful children’s toys, and a pile of soiled clothes. The carpet looks old and grey, has worn patches in it where you can see the marred cement foundation. I find it odd that there are no flies, considering the terrible odor in here. For some reason I’ve got the notion that these strange people don’t live here either. Its as if someone had abandoned the place suddenly. How did we all get here? How come I can’t remember anything? The couple continue rustling around, cackling more loudly. My frustration and fear rises, my blood rushes, I can feel my face flushing with heat. I vehemently tell them to knock it off, we’ll be heard for certain. They ignore me. So I say it again more earnestly, “Shut the hell up!”. They stop and look at me for moment, not saying or doing anything, just these haunted stares with grinning teeth. Then the laughing starts up again even louder.

Suddenly, time and space warp and shift. We’re now in a car, Wendy and I, driving down an ordinary city street, with businesses and fast-food restaurants to either side. Its still daytime. Up ahead of us is a red convertible with the top down. And the strange man and woman from the disheveled filthy house are in the sporty red car, both having turned around to flip us off, laughing as they haphazardly turn a corner. I grimace in anger and panic.

Sleeping Visions From Another Dimension
March 30th 2012

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