Dogtown

Steel & Wine

Two dreams, one featuring a collie dog, black, brown and white, with apparent cigarette burns on the white spots on her muzzle. The other involved me walking through a building off Main Street (I recall going in and out the front door several times, and there may have been a bookshop). I wind up in a small dining room where someone is sprawled on the floor and a couple are eating at a table. The woman remarks, “Is that a homosexual leg?” She repeats herself and I snap, “It’s a human leg.” This rattles her, and she asks if I’d like some wine before hurtling a full wine glass at my head. I knock it back at her with my left arm, breaking the glass and dousing her as well as my shirt. She stands and I grab a fork, knocking her multiple times on the head with it. She just screams and keeps walking towards me. I slap it over her left eye but it doesn’t do any damage. I grab her left arm and mock stabbing her when I see her husband stand up. I hit her again, push her down, and run through several doors where all the locks (all chains) have either been removed or have had the knob at the end of the chain broken off. She catches up to me and I slam her fingers in the door before taking off again. I end up climbing out of what I think was a bathroom window onto the street in an alleyway.

– February 24, 2010

Fork Goodness Sake [ royal bitch ]
© luckygirllefty

Swamp Ghosts

Late at night, walking down the road past houses that we’re looking to buy (one I like is in Tupelo next door to Molly, but it’s downtown – near Wendy’s – I think of getting a loan and buying it myself as it’s only $65,000). I wind up on a stretch of rural road alongside the woods which are rising with swamp water. A large crowd is walking behind me, but I keep losing sight of them and have to wait for them to catch up. I’m singing a song under my breath from a children’s movie and twice I step on the DVD in the flooded road (it has a blue baby monster on the cover). Some girls from school in the crowd catch up to me and are having a conversation, oblivious that I’m there. Everyone’s muddy and scratched up. For the duration of the walk, a light shines in my immediate front for about five feet like a headlight or flashlight, though I don’t carry one, and whenever I look over my shoulder for the group they are always surrounded by fading light.

– December 23, 2009

glitter
© Rachel Sapp