Saturday, March 06, 2010

Was it really four years ago?


I swam through the foyer, undulating like an eel as I gracefully made my way through the submerged house. The wallpaper was slowly coming away from the walls at the edges and waving like flock seaweed in the faint swell caused by my passing.

It was dim but not murky in the foyer. The large, multi-paned windows let in the vague green light from outside. I was about to inspect a picture on the wall to my right when movement in the corner of my eye made me freeze.

There was something in the kitchen. Something big. And black.

My heart was pounding as I slowly turned to get a better view. Whatever it was hadn't noticed me. I couldn't see or sense any eyes or make out any specific shapes, just its lissome movements as it manoeuvered around the kitchen. Using just my hands I propelled myself deliberately to the banister and concealed most of my body behind it while peering out through the rails.

Suddenly, whatever it was moved quickly towards the door into the foyer. Towards me. My eyes widened in fright. It was the queen.

Turning quickly, I surged down the stairs, curved over the banister and down in to the cellar below. Panicked, I sought for a hiding place but the room was devoid of furniture big enough to accomodate me. I was breathing the cool water faster now, in the grip of fear. Then I noticed the shape under the stairs.

Two aliens were nestled together on a sofa, stroking and caressing each other, oblivious to me. Sensing no maliciousness in them, I swam over them, dropping down behind their writhing, intertwined bodies. Through the gaps I could see the huge phallic shaped head of the queen come in to view as she effortlessly glided down the stairwell. Her massive, bladed crest was flattened against her back, her arms and legs brought in close against her undulating body and long, bony tail.

She slowly swam around the cellar, her lips curled back in a sneer displaying her sharp, translucent teeth. Ignoring the two aliens hiding me, she made one more circuit before disappearing up the stairwell. I remained where I was, shaking too much to even consider moving.

I don't know how much time had passed before I realised that I was transfixed by the writhing aliens before me. Their hard, black bodies rubbing and twisting around themselves in their intimate encounter. Before I knew it, a tail had smoothly wrapped around my leg and a strong but gentle, clawed hand had gripped my arm. I tried to extricate myself but was trapped. Then I found myself being pulled towards the sofa.

Despite being held by these terrifying creatures I felt strangely comfortable. Sandwiched between them now, they continued to caress each other, occasionally their hands, arms or tails would rub against me. I felt soothed by their actions. Relaxed, even. Gradually, I started to reciprocate, sliding my fingers over their hard, sinewey limbs, nuzzling my head into the crook of an arm or under a jaw. They were cajoling and enticing me to do more. I was becoming...

* rrrrrrrrrrrrruuuuuuuuuummmmmmmmmmmmmmble creeeaak groan *

Huh? Wassgoingon? Wher...

Oh. I must've fallen asleep. What a bizarre dream.

That bloody central heating system woke me up again. Crotchety old clank. I only fed it the other day! Now I'll never get back to sleep.



Bugger.



OK, OK. So I'm too lazy to post something new, but, with the exception of Spike, Piggy & Tazzy (wherever they may be now) and Tickers, you'd never know if I hadn't admitted it. Besides, I have been having weird dreams lately, I just can't remember them as clearly as this one.


15 comments:

  1. They mostly come at night … mostly.

    (although occasionally over your leg or something, if this is anything to go by!)

    ReplyDelete
  2. Speaking fom experience there, Tim?

    ReplyDelete
  3. Quiet, Timmy. Just relax there in your Alien-secreted resin cocoon and give birth already.

    'Petra: We'd better get the bath towels out to mop up. I don't think flannels are going to cut it.

    ReplyDelete
  4. Does that make you the Queen?

    ReplyDelete
  5. Don't you just hate that you always seem to wake just before the good part of the dream???

    I'd have never know this was a repeat... but then I wasn't blogging four years ago...

    ReplyDelete
  6. What Ponita said.

    Hmm. Word verif has been reading Harry Potter again. WTF sort of creature is a thydrale?

    ReplyDelete
  7. Sometimes I remember dreams; sometimes I don't. This was a very vivid one you had. Clearly, your subconscious (or maybe all of them) wanted you to get down and get busy!

    ReplyDelete
  8. Dear Mr DeVice,
    Please go back to sleep, I want to read all about the climax, shall I sing you a sweet lullaby?

    Oh Hi Pete Hi Eros

    ReplyDelete
  9. Tim: Yes, it does. And if you don't hush up, I'll get you with my little mouth, too!

    Ponita: It's always the way. On the other hand, I'm glad that I wake up before truly horrific nightmares climax.

    Spike: A Thydrale? Why, I don't have a clue.

    A Thrydale, on the otherhand, is a tundra or steppes dwelling cerberus that subsists on hamsters, gerbils and human ankles (they're very small creatures).

    Eros: Clearly!

    Princess: As you command, your royal highness.


    Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz...

    ReplyDelete
  10. KEEP YOUR LITTLE MOUTH AWAY FROM ME!

    AND YOUR BIG MOUTH TOO, FOR THAT MATTER!

    ReplyDelete
  11. Its beyond all reason.
    I am sure I dont have this sort of dream .
    I uaully dream about food and the dogs

    ReplyDelete
  12. Tim: I knew it!

    I knew I'd need my big mouth for you!

    BEAST: Do the dogs eat all the food in your dreams?

    ReplyDelete
  13. And to think I've been with you for much of it.

    *channels Barbra Streisand to join me in a chorus of "The Way We Were"*

    ReplyDelete
  14. Ah, I can remember my first tentative steps through your filth-addled blog like it was yesterday, MJ.

    ReplyDelete
  15. Tazzy and Piggy15/6/10 12:06

    There's no food for the dogs. Beast got there first.

    Dog food. Isn't that what they serve up at Cafe C?

    ReplyDelete