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You're not supposed to be able to die in your dreams. (Y'know, you're supposed to wake up before you hit the ground after falling off the cliff or before the werewolves catch you.) Well, last night, I managed to do it.
The dream took place decades in the future. I was an old man, maybe 80, 90 or even more. I was delirious with fever, stretched out on a bed.
Sitting beside me was my aged wife, holding my hand as I babbled. To one side was a young doctor, looking uncomfortable...or maybe a little guilty.
"Mildred, I love you," I mumbled in my delirium. "You need to know before I die, you're the only woman I've ever loved. I love you, Mildred, I love you. There's never been anyone but you." And on and on I babbled until I final croaked.
At which point my wife looks up and asks, "Who the hell is Mildred?!?"
The dream took place decades in the future. I was an old man, maybe 80, 90 or even more. I was delirious with fever, stretched out on a bed.
Sitting beside me was my aged wife, holding my hand as I babbled. To one side was a young doctor, looking uncomfortable...or maybe a little guilty.
"Mildred, I love you," I mumbled in my delirium. "You need to know before I die, you're the only woman I've ever loved. I love you, Mildred, I love you. There's never been anyone but you." And on and on I babbled until I final croaked.
At which point my wife looks up and asks, "Who the hell is Mildred?!?"