The other night I had a dream that I was being attacked by a crow.
The crow was a known serial killer.
And now it was after me.
Fortunately I utilized my kung fu hand training (because what good kung fu requires you to leave your chair?) and caught the crow with my bare hands. I won’t go into the details of the various ways I tried to subdue this Rasputin crow that wouldn’t die. Members of P.E.T.A. might be reading. One method involved my moving car and the right front tire, but I’m revealing too much!
Anyhow, once the bird was finally dispatched, all its friends and relatives in the tri-state area came after me for revenge, all Hitchcock-like, OF COURSE!
At that point there was nothing for it but to scare myself awake. I do appreciate when that happens, actually. However, once I’m awake in the middle of the night I inevitably discover that I need to go to the bathroom and that, indeed, I will not be able to fall back asleep until I do. So I spent a quarter of an hour lying there trying to psych myself into getting out of the relative safety of my blankets (any child will tell you that you’re safe in your bed so long as you’re under your blankets–even from serial killer birds) and walk the several feet to the bathroom without a murder of crows (that is, appropriately, what they are called) flocking out from under my bed. Read the rest of this entry