Of course it had to do with rats. I was in the basement of my parents' old house, the one where I grew up, huddled underneath the staircase one floor above - you know, that cozy area that looks like an upside-down staircase. Cozy for creatures like rats, that is.
Except in this dream, the rats were running on the ceiling of the basement, their little claws dug into the concrete to keep from falling. And then one of them lept off the ceiling, and made a noise like a wet towel hitting the floor -- slap! It shuffled, no, scurried (no, galloped, it was so big!) its way right at me! Virgil was there too. And then, just before I could make out up close its little red flames for eyes, its dank, matted brown pelt, I woke up. I grabbed icee (the ice bat of course) and breathed a sigh of relief, beads of sweat on my forehead.
I'll never forget that slapping sound. Goodness gracious!
1 comment:
im glad that didnt actually happen-sounds terrifying (except for the part about icee.)
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