Somehow, during my sleep, the bed linens had
become entangled around me – evidently the cause of the
nightmare. After turning my night table lamp on, untangling
myself took only a moment. To my misfortune, I discovered that
during my nightmare I’d actually ripped a hole through one
of the sheets. It must have happened while trying to free myself.
“The unconscious mind is a powerful force,” I
thought, perturbed that I’d have to go out and buy another
set of designer sheets.
Taking a drink of water from the glass on my
nightstand, I relaxed, trying to reassemble the details of the
nightmare. However, they were not very clear. I found that by
the time I was completely awake, I had forgotten much more of
the dream than I remembered.
It had been a long time since I’d had a
nightmare. I couldn’t really remember the last one, and I
was sort of glad that I didn’t remember this one. They
happened a lot, right after my father died, but that was when I
was just a kid.
That was a long time ago.
Why was I having nightmares again? Why now?
