Tuesday

My mother's pet zombie wouldn't leave me alone. I told her and told her please. Get
him away from me. I think he wants to bite me. (At the time it did not occur to me that he wanted to eat my brains, but that seems somewhat obvious in retrospect) Please, I said please. Please, get him. Please. The zombie kept doing. She kept doing nothing and nothing. And I kept avoiding, desperately. The fact I was dreaming never occurred to me, even after I woke up. It was only after I realized I had nothing be afraid of, that I figured out a part of me had made up everything I thought was so awful. After that, the day progressed normally. Except I drank some coffee and I don't usually do that.


kmc