I woke my wife up this morning. It was probably about 2am when I started speaking in ‘Parcel-Tongue’. I spoke this for a number of minutes before working up into a most ferocious fear-filled scream.
I woke myself up.
She has gotten accustomed to this from me down the years. There is an extra bit inside of me that has its own dreams and nightmares. It’s not me and yet it is me. It’s the thing that feeds my thoughts when my thoughts are hungry. Some may call it my dark side and they could be right. I prefer to think of it as my imagination coming up from the darkness and into the light of day (light of night).
My scream was because I had met a ghost on the stairs.
I cannot quite remember now who the ghost was, but I can remember that it was not there to do me anything good. This particular thing crops up in my dreams every now and again.
It’s a reminder of something…
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