a giant wombat & me

For the last week and a half maybe I've had nightmare after nightmare. Almost every night a new one. It is getting to a point where I am beginning to wonder about my own mental state.

On sunday night I dreamt that I had angered a giant wombat. Perhaps it was a Diprotodon australis or a some great and terrible animal spirit of the land. Maybe it was both, I don't know but what I do know is that he took a particular disliking to me and for whatever reason he wanted me dead or at least severly crippled.

I ran from him as fast as I could to my house, the one that I grew up in. There an assortment of friends and family waited for me and as I told them of my plight one by one they made there excuses: shopping to be done, rock concerts to be seen, new countries to visit and they left me, abandoned me.

Meanwhile the great Diprotodont recruited many other animals to his cause, to aid him in my destruction. And they gathered around my house; a keen labrador stood by his side: his able lieutenant.

I rang every number I had on my phone in desperation: no answer, can't talk, too busy. I thought of places to hide, doors I could lock but a sense of finality gripped me and my stomach dropped. A wombat the size of a truck could easily smash any door, any lock, any wall that I might put between us.

I was grade A fucked.

the last I dreamt