Entry #9: A nightmare
The tale of Two Pigeons continues. Start with Entry #1.
Had a nightmare…a variation on a recurring one that I have had for years. I had killed someone years ago and buried them in a basement. Like always it’s never clear who I killed or when or why. That is always vague. But I’m gripped by panic. I don’t feel bad about having killed someone. No, what I fear is being found out, revealed as a murderer. I worry that someone will dig up the body while doing repairs. I feel paralyzed. I can’t move. I can’t think. I’m just fixated on the spot in the ground where the body is buried. I’ve had versions of this dream for decades.
But this one had a different ending. The place where I buried the body is in the center of a large courtyard. It’s surrounded by tall stone walls with parapets and at the end of this courtyard is an entrance to a building with massive, tall golden doors that are adorned with giant golden Hebrew letters. It radiates brightness. Everything is bathed in a blinding golden light. Someone begins tugging at a bit of cloth that sticks out of the ground. I watch as they start to pull a body out. But then it’s like a cork gets popped and bodies start pouring out of the hole…tens, hundreds, millions of them. Burned skin hanging off in flaps, exposing charred bones and skulls. The bodies surge out like a fountain and amass into a giant pile, overflowing the courtyard and the walls and spread out as far as I can see. They’re all alive and looking at me with their white eyeballs, their eyelids having been burned off. They’re all screaming in pain. I scream, too. Then I wake.
Read Entry #10 next. See all installments of Two Pigeons here.