marmalade
drabble no. 1

I had dream a while back about something I can’t quite remember, but every night since it first occurred I feel like there’s been a gap in my head, somehow. In it, I think, there was a man, tall and black but not because he was dark, because there was a shadow hanging over his head that was long and cylindrical, almost axe-like if an axe were to be shaped and pressed into such a position. Whenever I had this dream my legs would shake, my arms would start getting sweaty, and I’d open my eyes to a room that looked as if it’d been immersed in water – an aquarium that’d, and I don’t know how or why, extracted itself from the sea and into my bed. I wondered always why this was so. Even still, I wonder, but I don’t like to dwell much on things that don’t directly affect me or put me in any kind of specific danger. All there is in the kitchen is a buzzing sound. The lower register is so clear, but it’s muffled. It’s like someone’s playing a four-track inside my eardrums, resounding off of my flesh and squeezing into the tiny holes, the nooks and crannies. Yesterday my cat died. I think it might’ve choked on a piece of bacon. To be honest I’d begun to feel sad, that is, on the day that I’d learned of its death while typing up a report for my boss, but as the hours wore on I fell asleep again and I had the aquarium dream. Now it’s difficult to care about anything. I don’t really know. It’s just something I think about, sometimes, and humans who don’t care about anything worry me. I miss my cat a little.