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In Focus


I had a pretty crazy night.

I was walking along a dirt road to clear my head of some recent stress. It was dark. I was using the moon to guide my way.

As I walked along, I heard rustling coming from a nearby field. The rustling sounds were coming closer. I stopped and stood still to see what was causing the noise. I shouldn’t have done that.

Four wolves sauntered out of the tall grass and locked eyes with me. I thought I was screwed. Unable to move, they surrounded me, growling and baring their teeth.

I didn’t move or make a sound. After what seemed like an eternity, they started to back away and went into the field on the other side of the road.

I huffed out the breath I didn’t know I was holding followed by a few profanities. Turning on my heel I started heading in the direction of home. I tripped and stumbled on something. It was a shovel. Odd place for a shovel.

I picked it up and examined the rusty tool when I heard the rustling noises again. This time they came much faster and from different directions.

Looking around to see something, anything, the wolves burst out of the fields and were charging at me full speed.

I started swinging the shovel, hitting the wolves, keeping them at bay as I slowly backed into the direction of home.

The fight continued...my arms and legs getting scratched in the process. I smacked one in the head pretty good and it took off running. The others followed.

Panting, trying to catch my breath and process what had just happened, the last of the wolves turned and looked at me and said “this isn’t over” and took off to join the rest of the injured pack.

“...what...the...?”

I took off running towards my house, bloody shovel in hand and my cut flesh stinging in the process.

That’s when I woke up.

I told you I had crazy, vivid dreams.

I can usually figure out why I see things in my dreams, whether it was something I had talked about or saw on T.V. or something like that. I knew exactly what this was. My own anxiety mixed with a book I’m reading about, you guessed it, werewolves. That explained the talking wolf.

Where I left off in the book, the pack mates were fighting amongst each other. As far as the shovel, I have no clue. When I woke up my cats, Latte and Pumpkin, were curled up on my legs purring, and digging their claws in...must have been the stinging I felt. My arms were in an awkward position and were tingling.

It’s amazing how the subconscious translates the outside world into the dream realm. It takes me a minute when I wake up to figure out if I was dreaming and it didn’t actually happen. And, as you can tell, I remember most everything that happens after I wake up.

Welcome to my crazy, subconscious mind.




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