The Leash

…and I go outside to head up the street to the corner store. I’m halfway up the block when I hear a woman scream. She’s running down the sidewalk. “The bombs are falling,” she shouts, running past me. A dog gallops after her trailing its leash on the ground

People are coming out of their houses, cars are swerving to a stop, because there’s a large oblong tumbling through the sky. It’s pill shaped and growing in size — hand, car, trailer, house — it lands a few streets over, lightly tipping and rolling end over end as though it were hollow or made of styrofoam.

It is a pill. I can see a manufacturer’s name stamped on the side. I look up. More are falling. I start to run for home.

Yeah. Another one of those dreams.

If giant white pills start falling from the sky . . . remember where you heard it first.

(Please direct all interpretations, amateur psychoanalysis, and government intelligence inquiries to: this crazy fucker.}