Nightmare, Scarecrow

June 3, 2011

The worst Nightmare last night.

I heard a noise, loud, like a rock hitting a window. So I got up from bed and went downstairs. The house was opposite, the front deck on the south side, and I went to that door, and there sitting on the railing was that guy from Jack in The Box.
Terrifying.
He wasn’t facing me.
He was lanky and looking away, his body turned toward me but his face turned away. A scarecrow who had all the time in the world, but wanted to come in.

He was just jeans and a blue flannel shirt, and a giant white round ball of a head.
So human, but not human.

My heart was pounding. I woke up Terrified.
And not wanting to be alone, ever, especially at night.

P lay beside me sleeping, a great comfort.


Why do I have nightmares? I have had them my whole life. It is hard enough to sleep and then sometimes sleep brings terrors.
As does waking life.


The thing that is attacking me never lets me see its face, I never learn its real name.

(photo, hours long traffic jam, stuck in the Bronx tunnel)