I'd been studying all night. My big test is less than a week away, and I still can't remember how to find the inverse of a function. My eyes had become strained to the point that the computer screen was beginning to swirl into an unrecognizable eddy of misshapen coefficients and variables.
I stretch and yawn, but I don't rub my eyelids, because that can cause wrinkles, and if I suddenly develop wrinkles, people might start to suspect that I'm somebody's grandmother.
Reaching for the eye drops seems like a chore. The nightstand is a little too far away. I have to adjust my position, but still, I can't reach it.
The lizard that hops onto my hand is a bit of a shock. It is light and quick. I slap it away, but it is more determined than I. It hits the floor mid-leap and comes right back to me, attaching itself to the front of my shirt. Holy Crap! I smack and slap and push, but with every contact, the lizard becomes heavier and blacker and meaner. It grins at me with an evil intent in its eyes.
I'll trap it, I think to myself. Looking around, I see that I'm in a noisy cafeteria somewhere. There are people around me, but they don't seem to notice my dilemma. I grab somebody's tupperware bowl, slap the lizard to the floor. With a fierce leap, I slam the bowl over it.
A short-lived sense of smug victory runs though me, until the vile creature begins to outgrow its prison, pushing me upward until it seems that I am riding it like a horse. There was a moment I thought it might grow wings and carry me away. Another dragon dream?
Instead, it disintegrates into a pool of black ooze under a cloud of thick, sticky smoke. I fall away from the mess, horrified that I've been poisoned by the noxious fumes.
I land safely in a landfill atop the world's largest pile of dirty laundry. My hand scrapes against a mess of caked-on food and grime. Gross.
I stand and view my circumstances. There is nothing on the horizon but more laundry.Endless hills and valleys full of stinky socks and boxer shorts.
Not a bathroom in sight.
I stretch and yawn, but I don't rub my eyelids, because that can cause wrinkles, and if I suddenly develop wrinkles, people might start to suspect that I'm somebody's grandmother.
Reaching for the eye drops seems like a chore. The nightstand is a little too far away. I have to adjust my position, but still, I can't reach it.
The lizard that hops onto my hand is a bit of a shock. It is light and quick. I slap it away, but it is more determined than I. It hits the floor mid-leap and comes right back to me, attaching itself to the front of my shirt. Holy Crap! I smack and slap and push, but with every contact, the lizard becomes heavier and blacker and meaner. It grins at me with an evil intent in its eyes.
I'll trap it, I think to myself. Looking around, I see that I'm in a noisy cafeteria somewhere. There are people around me, but they don't seem to notice my dilemma. I grab somebody's tupperware bowl, slap the lizard to the floor. With a fierce leap, I slam the bowl over it.
A short-lived sense of smug victory runs though me, until the vile creature begins to outgrow its prison, pushing me upward until it seems that I am riding it like a horse. There was a moment I thought it might grow wings and carry me away. Another dragon dream?
Instead, it disintegrates into a pool of black ooze under a cloud of thick, sticky smoke. I fall away from the mess, horrified that I've been poisoned by the noxious fumes.
I land safely in a landfill atop the world's largest pile of dirty laundry. My hand scrapes against a mess of caked-on food and grime. Gross.
I stand and view my circumstances. There is nothing on the horizon but more laundry.Endless hills and valleys full of stinky socks and boxer shorts.
Not a bathroom in sight.
Why you gotta hate on the reptiles? The laundry part seemed far more terrifying.
ReplyDeleteI believe it is the reptiles who are hating on me, Sir. I am certain that he meant to eat my eyeballs.
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