Preview: The dream

Drink me, I think or was it that pink thing that stinks? Confusion seems an illusion, yet my brain can't come to any conclusion. Did I do something to cause this? I'm feeling tired, or I'm dizzy or dazed. Did I fall and hit my head? For a moment, I'm sure I did slam my head into a tree or a brick wall or on concrete in a fall. Then, like I never thought that at all, I'm distracted by something furry. It gives me a great burst of energy, and I feel like I'm running.

No, wait, wait a minute, I'm on a ride at the fair, or maybe I'm just flying through the air? Shouldn't I care?

Yes, yes, I do care because I have to be somewhere. When, I wonder. “What time is it?” I ask, but nobody answers. “I better go,” I say, but then I wonder where it is I'm supposed to be. I don't even know where I am. “Who are you?”

“I'm the Gypsy...The acid queen...”

It's dark, and one of them barks. I'm afraid, but it's not the black of night that is giving me that fright. It's the thought of arriving someplace that I'm not supposed to be. Why won't my mind show me the place I know I don't want to go? “Shouldn't we have a key?” I ask?

Someone sings, “To tear your soul apart.”

“Stop singing,” I plead.

There is someone here, and now I have a great fear, oh dear. Something is near, I think, isn't that queer? Now I'm not afraid because I'm laughing at my mind for thinking in rhymes. Sensing a grasp, I gasp and ask, "Who are you?"

Bayard replied, "Welcome to my castle," and lit a candle without a flame.

The first thought that came to my brain was the dog isn't supposed to be in the garden. Next, I was perplexed because gardens don't have walls, windows, and ceilings. I turn to the Gypsy, and in the bright light, she gave me a new fright.

I don't know anybody with such a bush of wacky red hair or a top hat that reaches the ceiling. The room is too small, and I'm going to fall. Stop thinking in rhymes I demand of my mind, but that only brings on a fit that shakes my tits. My tits? “Where are my clothes?”

I look for the door but fall to the floor. I'm by a window that's as tall as the wall. Before I can jump, there's a scream which reminds me of a dream. “Is this a dream?” I ask the cat with the black hat. Please be a dream.