the Andrew Bailey

Toe Stew

A while back, my good friend Ian Buck started posting some dreams of his. Like all dreams, they have a "sort of" basis in reality, but sleep deprived minds have a way to twist things in a unique way. So let me share a weird dream I had about ten years ago. This dream is not based at all on reality. I somehow got to writing this one down while it was still fresh.

It starts off in a minivan driving down a country road. My mom is driving, grandma in front, with me and who I'm pretty sure was my sister in the back seat. It seemed like we were taking a vacation to grandma's for a week or so. We talk about grandpa, and how grandma's been holding up since he died.

After we get to her house, mom and grandma are fixing dinner, and my sister and me are in the living room watching TV or something. After a while, grandma comes out of the kitchen with a cleaver and says asks if she can see my feet, because we're having toe stew. I look at her feet, and notice that she doesn't have any big toes! I get up from the couch and yell no. Mom yells at grandma from the kitchen to put the cleaver down, and get back in the kitchen, because we're having beans.

And that's it. For the record, I have no sister, and I'm pretty sure that I recognized no one in it, i.e. "mom" did not look like my real mom. It seems like I expanded on this, but it doesn't get anywhere near that dark again.

Posted under Literature. 1 comment.

Well that is pretty dark. Much darker than any of the dreams I remember having.

It's nice to see a tangible benefit to my obsessive tagging of blog posts.

Ian Buck complained on .

You can't complain about this anymore. It's perfect!