Furrier than Usual
Dream | February 19, 2009
In the early afternoon I laid down to nap. My German Shepherd jumped onto the bed, turned around once and plumped down heavily, heaving up against my leg like a sandbag. I fell asleep almost immediately...
...but soon sat up kinda dazed. The bed was empty and the light had changed in a disorienting way. Jennifer came in and commented quite loudly that I looked strange. I looked down at myself and thought I was certainly hairier than usual. My chest and belly were covered with a silvery tan fur, and my arms were quite black.
"You stink too!" But then, she always said that. I buried my nose in my chest and sniffed up a cornucopia of pungent smells that seemed normal at the time – chocolate candy bar, sweaty old socks and French cheese.
"Well, I better take you outside," she said. This made me very happy.
We went outside but she disappeared in a dreamlike way, perhaps because I was so suddenly preoccupied with the distinct reality from my senses. The wet grass smelled rich and earthy. A hummingbird buzzed through my brain like a helicopter. In the apartment complex behind our house someone's footsteps echoed on cement steps all around my head like a crazy drawing by M.C. Escher. A strange peachy face stretched by as if distorted by an amusement park mirror. It took awhile to pass, its mouth and eyes spanning the whole walkway so I shouted something but it came out as a growly bark.
The light had changed. The sky was brilliant blue but the houses around were in shadow. Next to a doorway near the street corner a yellow bulb glowed.
I woke up and my dog was snoring nearby.