in my dream last night i wondered around a post-apocalyptic landscape. everything is ruined or aflame�terrifying! TT�s mother is there, at least i know it is her even though she does not resemble his mother in the least. she is about twenty years older and wearing robes and a babushka. she does not understand much English, but keeps asking me about my relationship with him. i leak out that we are perhaps planning a future, and there may be marriage and such. she beams and claps her hands in an immigrant sort of way, and i run away at the first opportunity, afraid she will ask more questions.
i end up hiding inside a large church, somehow undamaged by the end of the world. this church is one that i frequent in my dreams often, but one that i cannot place in real life. it is a huge, stone cathedral with large iron chandeliers and a walkway around the back of the church that is �u� shaped and decorated with paintings of the crucifixion and various saints and martyrs. it is always cool and calm, a place to thing, to daydream. i relax here for a while, catching my breath and thinking about TT, �wondering if i said something wrong to his mother�if i let loose a black secret, something that if mentioned would no longer come to fruition.
eventually, picking my way through rubble and debris, i return home to our flat, one bedroom and quite small � reminiscent of a motel room. i relax on the bed and wait for him to return home from wherever he is�i worry about telling him about my afternoon.
after a long while, TT rushes in the door, shutting it quickly behind him to keep out smoke and soot. he is incredibly dirty and barefoot, �wearing ripped clothes and sweating. he scowls where have you been? and before i can answer he rushes into the bathroom. i follow to explain, but stop when i see him digging at the soles of his feet with tweezers. he pulls out dark, squirming objects�burrowing insects that have overrun the world since the destruction. he kills them one-by-one and rinses them down the sink with brown water from the tap. he is silent and concentrating�angry at me for venturing out, angry and worried.
he is having problems with what seems like a splinter in the palm of his hand�i ask to help. he hands me the tweezers and his palm, and i look closer. the splinter is moving back and forth, not a splinter at all, but a small cut that is allowing me to see what is moving around inside. i force the tips of the tweezers into the cut and open it further, shrinking back slightly at what i see, but knowing i have no other choice than to continue. i move the tweezers in deeper and grab hold of a large centipede-like creature, dark dark brown and squirming alarmingly, many talon-ed little legs twitching and grabbing hold of his tendons and bones inside of his hand. his hand seems almost hollow from the burrow.
i grab hold of this creature and pull and wiggle and wrench, finally extracting the centipede, which is a large as my pinky finger. i quickly crush it in my fist before it can burrow into me, and thick, olive and yellow paste escapes between my fingers. i wash it down the sink, barely done before i have to rush to the commode to vomit.
while rinsing and getting sick, TT steps into the shower, ignoring my strife and horror, taking care of his own.
horrible.not a wonder that i woke up nauseous from that one, not at all. pleh.
more dreams later this afternoon from my nightmare extravaganza weekend!
*blink*
