Dead Man Shopping
I had too much to dream last night. Again.
It began with a very short lucid dream where I walked through Parisian markets. I felt light and free. But my hair was too long. I ran my hands over my head and gave myself a new style. Short and sleek. Then I shopped for fruits and vegetables until something woke me up.
Back to sleep and on the streets of Central America. I’m meeting my father. We haven’t seen each other for years, but agreed we should meet to discuss the terms of our relationship. He met me on a busy road and we walked for hours. By the end of the evening, I loathed him. After I sent him away, I roamed around and discovered an open air restaurant. It was cooking midnight dinners. I ate to my heart’s content.
Before heading home I stopped by a convenience store. I needed laundry detergent, cereal, milk, and a few other items. I was on the last aisle looking for detergent when a foul smell invaded my lungs. It was sudden and unforgivable. I covered my nose and found what I needed. Exiting the aisle, I almost bumped into a man. He carried stationary, cans of food and bottles. When he looked at me, I knew he had died within the last few days. He walked away, but the rotten smell of flesh would not disappear. At the checkout stand, I felt sick. He was standing behind me. I paid for my things and left, desperate for some fresh air.
But he walked on the same road. He passed me and I felt sick. It was too intense for me, so I took a detour. I thought he was following me, but when I turned around no one was there and that terrible smell never ceased.