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Clifford

In the wee hours of the morning, I was dreaming about being peacefully asleep with a tall man in the room, when some sound awoke me. I opened my eyes to find that there was indeed a tall man silhouetted in my bedroom doorway.

Strangely calm, I blinked and asked him what the heck he was doing in my room. He said: “It’s me, Cat.” I sort of recognized the voice (why he didn’t tell me his name I don’t know), but I was a little pissed and told him he was leaving. I marched him out to the livingroom and to the front door, but it was still too dark to see him.

“Who the hell are you?” I asked. He leaned his face in close to mine, making an annoyed sound. Still no good, so I dragged him to the kitchen and turned on the light. It was my nephew, Clifford. “How did you get in here?”

“I know where Mom’s key is,” he said. Still pissed, I made him leave and went back to sleep.

Fully awake a few minutes later, I wondered at my own behavior. Obviously he was there because he had no place to stay. What was I thinking? I got up and looked outside, noticing on the way to the window that the cat had barfed on the rug enormously. Oh, goody. Clifford wasn’t in the courtyard below. Avoiding my cat’s present, I logged on to Trillian and found my sis online. I was glad to find her despite the hour, and I asked her about Cliff…

And now that I’m really awake, I’m realizing that I hate, hate, hate non-lucid dreaming. I was mighty surprised to discover it was only 8:45pm. Coming out to the livingroom to write this bizarre entry, I was fully freaked. If there had been cat barf on the rug–*shiver*.

Now I wonder if I’m really writing this entry.

2 Responses to Clifford

  1. A Woman says:

    I hope you’re writing it, because I’m READING it!

  2. Cat says:

    You’re only dreaming you’re reading it. Wow, what an awful nightmare. Hee.