/yesod

Tag: kitchen

  • danger

    A kitchen, a house in the country — dry and dusty, very little greenery.

    A little boy with dark hair and a baby face sits at the kitchen table playing with an old wooden birdhouse.

    I see a yellowjacket crawl sluggishly over the back of the birdhouse. Inside I see the telltale paper comb covered with more yellowjackets.

    I shout a warning to the boy — he is my son in this dream — and he laughs at my fear. I command him to take the birdhouse out of the house.

    He does grudgingly.

    I turn to see a girl — his sister, my daughter in the dream — sitting on the floor by my briefcase. She is playing with another hunk of honeycombed nest. She digs her finger into a hole, tearing at the gray papery mass, and draws out a still pupating larva. 

    She tells me it’s safe.

      
     

  • doing the dishes

    …and as I turn to put a glass in the cupboard I startle and flinch backwards from the dark figure standing right at my left shoulder.

    Vague impressions . . . someone looking into my face . . . a male presence about my height but larger, heavy-set almost . . . broad head, the bare suggestion of something there . . . a hat, perhaps?

    And then it is gone.

  • honeysuckle

    About a month ago I noticed that whenever I walked into the kitchen of our house I could smell honeysuckle. This went on for a number of days before I mentioned it to my wife.

    She couldn’t smell anything.

    Even more strange, this only happened when I walked through a particular doorway. Coming in from another entrance, there was nothing.

    It’s worth mentioning that this is the same doorway that, sometimes, I will see a pale figure passing through as I approach.

    Not often, but it’s there.

    After a few days, the smell of honeysuckle went away.

    Tonight I smelled it again.

    And tonight, for whatever reason, I’ve been seeing movement — odd, almost geometric figures — at the corner of my eyes.

  • mother, father, cat

    Do demons stand still? Can you look for them in corners or out of the way places? Do demons stop long enough for you to see them? Do demons stand near us? Where do they stand?

    In the dream, my house has been transformed into a filthy hole. The kitchen is a mess, bits of food, dirty pots and pans, and crusty dishes piled everywhere.

    My mother sits on the patio and smokes cigarettes.

    My father sits in the living room, studying Talmud.

    I try to clean up the mess.

    My cat walks though my dream, his mind embraced by madness. His mouth gapes, his eyes stare, insane light shining through. His tongue flaps out between his fangs, drooling mucous and vomit. He yowls to wake the dead.

    I call to my mother to put on her glasses. I ask her “Can you see him? Can you see the cat?” She doesn’t answer. And I ask her again, and then I say “Can you see demons..?” And I go into my earlier ideas on demons. I speak and the cat yowls and in the living room my father is a dusty corpse.

    When I woke from this dream I was saying “Do demons stand still?” in a breathless gasp.