Must Not Sleep
I have nightmares. I've had them since I was a kid. Most recently, it's the dream about the beautiful butterfly in the street that I try to rescue. When I bend over to pick it up, I can see that it is feasting on a bloody bandage. I wake up sweaty.
Sometimes, I run out of things to have nightmares about. When that happens, I feel fortunate to have days like yesterday. It was the most disgusting day on record, and my nightmare material is renewed.
I sat in the park to feed the geese. Geese scare me a little, but I have a technique for when they get too aggressive. I threw the bag of seeds and ran, screaming loudly and flailing my arms. Eventually, they backed down.
After my brief run, I strolled over to the bridge overlooking an absolutely repulsive pond. I gazed down into the bubbling muck and rested my elbows on the bridge with a crunch. When I looked down, half of a crayfish was stuck to my sleeve. Paralysis. I gaped at my elbow for a second and then the antennae began to fish around.
I handled this the same way I handle every disgusting experience. I retched. I shook my arm frantically. The geese laughed and laughed.
I went to J's house to sit on the porch and drink homemade sangria (Directions: 1. Open box, 2. Pour over cut fruit). I rolled a giant log over so that I could sit more comfortably. Ants ran from every direction. Millions of ants. More ants than I have ever seen. All carrying tiny, white, maggoty larvae. One was on my arm. Another on my big left toe. I'm not sure, but I think they were on my neck and in my hair.
Again, I retched. Then, I danced around like a crackhead. I'm glad the geese didn't see me.