As I lay on the ground, in nothing but my shamrock boxers, I can’t stop staring at the ceiling. In the patterns of paint crossing back and forth along the top of my humble home, I find one spot in particular that my eyes become fixated on. This spot, this one spot, has captured my focus wholly and I begin to describe to Heather what it is I’m seeing in this one spot.

I see a giant. A creature of immense power, towering over me with his arms raised and ready to strike down upon me. His body is sleek, black like obsidian. His muscles bulge and burst at the seams of his skin as his judgmental eyes and anger stare down upon me. All of this and I can only focus on what rests upon his shoulders. Two heads rest upon the top of this creature, both canine and ancient. On the left, a slender, pointed snout with sharps ears darting from the back of its head. It’s black eyes stare at me with a cold, unfeeling look. On the right, sturdy and strong, a boxish snot and face look just beyond where I lay. Its ears are short with the smallest triangle of a flap folding over at the tips.

I don’t know what this creature is or where it came from, but it lives in my ceiling and it’s staring at me. As I lay here, I wonder what I’ve done to anger this mighty beast and what I might avoid doing to appease him in the future. I’ve pulled myself off of the floor, out of the sight of this creature. I slowly find my way into my bedroom where Heather lay sleeping peacefully. I flop down onto my side and slowly pull the forest green comforter over my body, feeling it’s warmth against my skin. I can feel my conscious mind swiftly fading into the deepness of sleep. Tonight has been weird.


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