A mystery dream…
On Sunday morning I awoke to the sound of caterwauling. It seemed to come from the sidewalk directly outside my bedroom window. When I first awakened, I didn’t actually understand what the noise was – at first I thought it was a baby crying.
The voiceless voice in my head – you know, the one that typically keeps up a running commentary (unless you’re an enlightened monk or something) – “spoke” to me at the same moment as I awoke.
It said, “What’s that noise?”
Fair question. “I don’t know,” I answered (silently, of course).
We (my voiceless voice and I) listened, and then, in my head, I voicelessly replied, “It’s a cat. Caterwauling.”
A third voice came along, complementing the duo my own internal voice and I were dancing. He – I’m quite sure my voiceless …er, partner, in conversation seemed male – said:
“Be sure to wait for the second part.”
“What?” What was that supposed to mean? Oh, right: …nothing. This is all in my imagination, another one of those damn internal dialogues, except now it’s starting to turn into a party, …or at least a menage a trois.
I started to roll over, burying my head in the pillows, hoping the cat would soon stop.
It did.
Oh good, I thought, hopeful that I’d get back to sleep quickly. My own internal voice couldn’t help chiming in: “Wonder what that crazy shit about the second part was supposed to be about?”
“I guess that was just a bizarre figment of your imagination,” I silently told myself.
The cat was quiet, everything outside was quiet, I was ready to go back to sleep.
And then a dog began barking furiously. From the sound of it, a big dog, Baskerville-sized.
Except this one barked, unlike the fictional one.
And that was the second part.
