It was a soft brown. The eyes were like coal, or peering into a part of the sky that has no stars.
It was passed down from my father. I couldn't sell it, I could only give it away.
I was in a cave, a long limestone passage, with tunnels so narrow you had to lie down and crawl through. It was damp, and cold. I could feel the eyes on my back, those black holes, but I was sure even though I could feel its presence behind me that around every corner it would be there. I crawled though a soupy muck that covered the floor, and sticks crunched under my knees and arms. I would stop to examine them, but I'm afraid they will be too white, like bones. There is a sulfur smell, and a voice whispers in my head " you are cursed...cursed..."
Finally I get back home. Like most dreams, the scene just kind of flips, there is no detail between the cave and my front door. I was exhausted from running. I opened the door and there it was; the fuzzy brown hair, the cold empty eyes. A spoon was in one paw, and it was sipping blood from a dish, sitting in my daughters chair.
I knew that no matter what I did, my son would one day own it too, and he would pass it onto his own, doing anything to stop the nightly chase when he went to sleep, even if it costs his childrens soul. Not just from a family of bankrupt fools, I am carrying the baggage of a ruined empire, murdered slaves and raped indians. That must be why. What else have I done?
I woke up, saying to myself " fuck this dream, I don't like it. "
I told my wife about it this morning. She said that my son refused to sleep with his Thomas The Tank Engine Bear, this had been going on for months. He said it gave him bad dreams.
I know that I wake up everynight, with the feeling up being harried. Most nights I am fairly buzzed, so I seldom remember my dreams.
I know that when I get home today, a certain bear will disappear from our home. I wonder though, will that be enough to break this curse? A smudge of sweet grass and cedar. A prayer?
http://forums.bf2s.com/viewtopic.php?pi … 7#p2145887
It was passed down from my father. I couldn't sell it, I could only give it away.
I was in a cave, a long limestone passage, with tunnels so narrow you had to lie down and crawl through. It was damp, and cold. I could feel the eyes on my back, those black holes, but I was sure even though I could feel its presence behind me that around every corner it would be there. I crawled though a soupy muck that covered the floor, and sticks crunched under my knees and arms. I would stop to examine them, but I'm afraid they will be too white, like bones. There is a sulfur smell, and a voice whispers in my head " you are cursed...cursed..."
Finally I get back home. Like most dreams, the scene just kind of flips, there is no detail between the cave and my front door. I was exhausted from running. I opened the door and there it was; the fuzzy brown hair, the cold empty eyes. A spoon was in one paw, and it was sipping blood from a dish, sitting in my daughters chair.
I knew that no matter what I did, my son would one day own it too, and he would pass it onto his own, doing anything to stop the nightly chase when he went to sleep, even if it costs his childrens soul. Not just from a family of bankrupt fools, I am carrying the baggage of a ruined empire, murdered slaves and raped indians. That must be why. What else have I done?
I woke up, saying to myself " fuck this dream, I don't like it. "
I told my wife about it this morning. She said that my son refused to sleep with his Thomas The Tank Engine Bear, this had been going on for months. He said it gave him bad dreams.
I know that I wake up everynight, with the feeling up being harried. Most nights I am fairly buzzed, so I seldom remember my dreams.
I know that when I get home today, a certain bear will disappear from our home. I wonder though, will that be enough to break this curse? A smudge of sweet grass and cedar. A prayer?
http://forums.bf2s.com/viewtopic.php?pi … 7#p2145887
