I woke from a nightmare
April 27, 2014
I'd been trapped in a creepy old house, a giant, run-down mansion, one that must have belonged to an oil tycoon or maybe a New England old-money family, who had their own custodial staff to tend to the sprawling grounds, and who wound up founding a well-respected university. I was with my family. We were trying to make our way through the musty bedrooms with stained carpeting and bed sheets half done-up; through long, labyrinthine hallways, past broken staircases and the cracked, graying tiles of an empty indoor pool with the view through enormous mildewed windows of the dilapidated tennis courts. We need to stick together, but we keep peeling off, one by one, like in the movies. I woke from the nightmare and, because a nightmare is no way to start a day, I said to myself "Don't let that get to you. You're gonna have a good day." It was morning and I rolled over in my bed. There was a spot on the sheets right by my head, maybe a crumb, so I looked closer-- A stink bug had crawled up next to me at night and died.