That night I had dreamt tumultuous dreams. I was within the maw of an indescribably gigantic beast, under its tongue, which rests oppressively onto my bare skin. I try to crawl out, but the tongue is too heavy to lift, and every time I try to move, the pungent smell of the saliva assaults me in noxious waves. I can't open my mouth, and I can't breathe either for with the slightest movement the stench would come in waves. I had spent a long time there, almost days, rotting away under that slimy wet tongue in fetal position, hoping for something else to kill me before starvation does. All that was there was the unbearable warmth of the tongue and the saliva. I lay there and starved, for days, for weeks. Until I woke up, and I shook myself off that dream.
My skin was sweaty from the heat under the blankets, and my throat was dry from dehydration. I look at the clock, its only 5 in the morning, and I shouldn't be awake. I take a quick shower to clean myself of sweat, and walk towards the kitchen for a drink of water.
It was a stiflingly hot night, and the air was moist and dangerous, as if any moment now a lithe beast would ambush from the shadows, with deadly sharp claws and eyes that would still glow ever so slightly in the darkest of moonless nights. I glanced out the window habitually, and caught the affluent yellow lights of the streets as they bathe the city in fake gold.
I lied down on my bed, and immediately felt the remnants of my body heat which had been absorbed by the mattress and the pillow, and smelt my cold sweat from the dream, which have soaked my blanket.
I run a wet tongue over dry lips, and I hope for good dreams.
YOU ARE READING
Short Fictions, Thrills And Wonders
Storie breviA silent night falls, quiet and menacing, a gauze over the bright light of the day. A writer, fueled by coffee and daydreams keep typing into midnight, fingers moving furiously. These are his stories. Cover by:@-hhangry
