Cat’s Dream Journal, May 18th I had the dream again last night, the one I’ve had since childhood. Only this time more details lingered upon waking. In the dream, it is night and I am abed in a room not my own. My belly is a ripe watermelon and I can feel the child moving inside. The room is small, the bed narrow. A washstand, table, wooden chair, and crucifix are the only other furnishings. As always, demonic yellow eyes appear to float in the darkness. A figure takes shape around the eyes—a man with long black hair and a wan complexion. He is as beautiful as a dark angel and wants something from me, something I will not give. I sense I am protecting someone—someone I love very much. The father of my unborn child? He crawls into bed with me and touches and kisses me in arousing ways before sinking his teeth into my neck. The bite is painful—I cry out—but intense pleasure soon follows. I feel him draining my life. Feel myself fading away. Feel death’s icy fingers pulling on me. Just before I die, someone calls my name, a male voice with a Scottish burr. Awakening abruptly, I find myself alone. Might the dream have something to do with my lifelong fascination with vampires and Scotsmen? Read it for Halloween: smarturl.it/queenofswords
Posted on: Sat, 18 Oct 2014 18:30:01 +0000
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