A few nights ago I sat up in bed, yelling. I would say I woke up screaming from a nightmare, only none of those things are true.
I didn’t wake up: I can’t say I was asleep yet. I was in that twilight state when the baby chickens walk around the bedroom.
It wasn’t a nightmare, it was just an image. Specifically an image of Gary slipping and falling at his mother’s house.
I was yelling, not screaming. Specifically I said “Noooooooooo!’ And then I sat up.
”Yeesh,” I said, “That was awful.” Then I dropped off again.
This time I was standing in the freezing cold snow outside someone’s front door, and they threw a bucket of cold water on me and I froze.
This time I didn’t yell, I whimpered. But, somehow I dropped off again.
When it happened one more time I called for Gary.
I whined, “Gary, I’ve had three night terrors in a row. First you slipped and fell at your mom’s, then someone tried to freeze me to death.”
He said, “What was the third one?”
“... Oh. I just fell against the the whiteboard again.”
And it’s true, I don’t know why my subconscious decided that would be the coda to two near-death experiences. I do know that since then I haven’t had a good night’s sleep.