I had a dream during my brief, 90-minute slumber. I’m slowly recalling it, and it’s more and more strange as it comes to me in pieces.
A Vietnam setting. I was in the war, crawling in the mud through swamps. My troops and I come to a small muddy island, maybe 30 ft. x 8 ft.; long and narrow. The wierd thing is, my allies are donald duck-looking guys. Like, seriously, a bunch of Donald Ducks and Scrooge McDucks. They were all wearing army gear and all serious and everything; yelling, waving troops in, ducking, rolling, shooting into the forest, everything.
All of a sudden, these... cuban-looking guys (which is odd, considering this is supposedly Vietnam) jump on my back and grab my hair and lift my head up. The other one jumps in front of me and looks me in the face and brandishes a machette. And then he smiled and grabbed the back of my neck as he sliced my throat.
But my duck troops saw them and ran up through the gunfire as the cubans dropped me and left. I roll over on my back and get to my knees. I clutch my throat with both hands. I’m still breathing. I can feel my exhales bubble out through the blood on my fingers, but I’m holding my throat together so I can still breathe. Is that even physically possible? I dunno. It’s a dream, so right now it is. Anyway, the Ducks tell me things like, "They’re fools! They should know that you can still breathe if you don’t cut the head all the way off," and, "Just hold on!" Next thing I see (suddenly back in my first-person perspective) is a Duck with a hand and needle at my throat, apparently sewing it back together - y’know, like the girl in Nightmare Before Christmas. He was telling me how this wouldn’t hurt or something. I could feel my flesh being poked and tugged and tightened with fishing line, and the warm blood running down my chest and over my stomach.
But this dream didn’t feel grotesque or morbid or anything. Just surreal. Like a movie. Then the whole dream pressed rewind and it went back to the throat-slicing scene, and instead of me getting mutilated, something else happened. I can’t recall. I’ll write it if I remember.
But what the hell.
-HKR
A Vietnam setting. I was in the war, crawling in the mud through swamps. My troops and I come to a small muddy island, maybe 30 ft. x 8 ft.; long and narrow. The wierd thing is, my allies are donald duck-looking guys. Like, seriously, a bunch of Donald Ducks and Scrooge McDucks. They were all wearing army gear and all serious and everything; yelling, waving troops in, ducking, rolling, shooting into the forest, everything.
All of a sudden, these... cuban-looking guys (which is odd, considering this is supposedly Vietnam) jump on my back and grab my hair and lift my head up. The other one jumps in front of me and looks me in the face and brandishes a machette. And then he smiled and grabbed the back of my neck as he sliced my throat.
But my duck troops saw them and ran up through the gunfire as the cubans dropped me and left. I roll over on my back and get to my knees. I clutch my throat with both hands. I’m still breathing. I can feel my exhales bubble out through the blood on my fingers, but I’m holding my throat together so I can still breathe. Is that even physically possible? I dunno. It’s a dream, so right now it is. Anyway, the Ducks tell me things like, "They’re fools! They should know that you can still breathe if you don’t cut the head all the way off," and, "Just hold on!" Next thing I see (suddenly back in my first-person perspective) is a Duck with a hand and needle at my throat, apparently sewing it back together - y’know, like the girl in Nightmare Before Christmas. He was telling me how this wouldn’t hurt or something. I could feel my flesh being poked and tugged and tightened with fishing line, and the warm blood running down my chest and over my stomach.
But this dream didn’t feel grotesque or morbid or anything. Just surreal. Like a movie. Then the whole dream pressed rewind and it went back to the throat-slicing scene, and instead of me getting mutilated, something else happened. I can’t recall. I’ll write it if I remember.
But what the hell.
-HKR
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