Concrete and Clay

Warm. Probably dreaming. Uncertain if so. Cups and saucers.

Suddenly the sound of a dentists drill in my ear. Not dreaming of teeth, brings luck. Probably nothing. Forks. Spoons.

Then a scream like a microscopic banshee. A divebomber in my ear. The product of a million years of evolution. I jump up, startled and panic stricken by the attack. Suddenly hunted. There, the black dot zig zags away towards the ceiling, expertly avoiding an easy swipe.

From subconscious to conflict in a second. Weapons; a towel, an empty packet of Jacobs crackers, hands. A half asleep robocop scans the room, identifying threats. Serve the public trust, protect the innocent, uphold the floor. Must have been dreaming.

I open the wardrobe to put the towel away. From behind the door hesitantly floats the predator. A spectre in the morning gloom. I jump in panic and swipe at the wall.

My blood drips down the wall next to a lightswitch.