I had a terrible night last night, and I wonder how long I’ll last today before conking out.
I dreamt I was alone in someone’s house–whose, I don’t remember, but it did seem familiar to me–tidying up the living room…
When in came the Grim Reaper, headed straight for me with his scythe. He had no face. Everything about him was in deepest black, even the blade of the scythe.
Wit you well, I let out a scream! More than one of them, I’m told. But I did scream my way out of that before something worse could happen.
What made me dream such a thing? Just the cumulative effect of a whole week’s worth of nooze? That’s the most likely explanation, I think.
(Gee, I’m already feeling kind of tired…)