Saturday, 28 December 2013

My Wrist Kind of Hurts


Sometimes it’s nice to just lie in bed for a while, drifting in and out of sleep, kind of easing into the day. This morning was one of those days. I knew that it was cold outside and I should go out and shovel the walk first thing, so I was motivated to stay in bed.

Louise mentioned that the flooring in the dining room seemed to be a little uneven by the far corner. I couldn’t figure out how she would have even seen the far corner with the Christmas boxes blocking the view. I had nothing better to do, so I moved the boxes and the table that was displaying decorations. It was a little awkward, but I managed to make a space big enough for me to get down with a flashlight. Louise was right, the laminate floor had heaved up a little bit. Well, more than a little actually.

I went and got some tools and took off the baseboard to have a good look. I figured that either Hurricane or Tornado must have spilled a drink and the wood had swollen up. I still have some left over pieces so no big deal really. I was surprised when I pulled up the fist board to find a small mound of clay with a hole in it. It kind of looked like the structures that mud wasps make. It doesn’t make sense though, because wasps mostly die out in the winter and I would have noticed wasps flying around the house for the past couple of months. Weird!
 
I gave the hole a poke with my finger and the mud kind of cracked. I heard kind of a humming and then thousands of translucent insects flew out of the hole. I threw myself back and out of the way of the flying bugs. It was weird, because just when I was doing that, I heard the scream of a little girl. I suppose it could have been me. The bugs looked like they were an inch to an inch and a half long, were transparent and I couldn’t see any wings at all. They looked like plastic tubes, but they came out and were flying around the house just like angry wasps.
 
One landed on my wrist and stung me, leaving a spot of blood and taking some. I could follow it as it flew off, because it was the only one that had any colour at all. Other than the one bug, they seemed content to fly round and round the living room. It lasted a couple of minutes, and then they seemed to form a line and flew back into the hole at top speed. I was more than a little freaked out. What if that bug laid eggs in my wrist? What if they have been feasting on Louise and me for months? What the fuck were they? I can’t deal with this kind of thing myself; I’m going to call in an expert or two.

That dream finally motivated me to get up. I hate bugs, whether they are real or imagined. Now I know why I don’t sleep in as a rule. Why would a guy dream of shit like that and what does it mean? I will probably never know, but I stayed as far away from the dining room as I could today, just in case.


The funny thing is my wrist kind of hurts.

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