Dreams Can Be Troublesome

Don't Sleep Talk

RT 5/6/2010

 

 

It was early, Nora was asleep on the living room couch.

She must have had another of her headaches during the night.

No coffee, Nora again forgot to pick up some at the grocery store.

 

I’ll see if our new neighbor has a few grounds I can borrow

Until I can pick up a tin on my way from work tonight.

 

The door to the apartment swung open when I knocked

There was a light on in the bathroom. 

I called, ‘Hello’.   There was no answer.

 

The window was open and the curtains were pulled to one side

Pulled loose at the top hanging , broken.

 

The gun was on the bed.

She was on the floor.

She wasn’t moving.

I bent down and touched her, she was warm.

 

I heard a noise behind me. 

I turned towards the doorway.

A man stood there, a huge man, all dressed in black.

 

‘Who are you’, I ask. 

He answered, ‘Father Arnold’, then smiled.

‘Can I help you’, I replied?

‘I’ve come to see Evie’, he answered.

 

‘That must be Evie’, I pointed to the body on the floor.

I called for an ambulance.

Father Arnold called the cops.

I didn’t get my coffee.

 

‘Charlie’, ’Charlie, get up or you’ll be late for work.’

Nora was tugging at my leg.

 

I climbed out of bed and stumbled to the bathroom.

I looked in the mirror and mumbled to myself,

Just as Nora walked by, ‘I sure hope Evie was Okay.’

 

Nora had brewed a pot of coffee.

I ate a slice of toast, grabbed my briefcase.

 

I thought it strange that Nora turned her head away

When I tried to give her a peck on her cheek as

I headed for the door.

 

Work was slow, but it always was on Wednesdays.

 

‘Charlie’, Sam called across the office to me,

Nora’s on line 2.

 

‘Yes, Nora’, I spoke into the phone.

‘Charlie’, Nora ask,’ who’s Evie?’

 

 

End