That’s what the woman in my dream kept asking me. I was alone at home and she phoned me. I knew her name (Felicia) but not what she looked like. And no matter how I answered, it was wrong. She just kept asking the same question in varying tones of voice. I had the distinct sense that if I didn’t start answering correctly, she would bust down the door with an axe and hack me to bits.
“Do you remember your bad dream, from this morning?”
“…No. No, wait, yes I do. I dreamed you were a robot. A Von Neumann!”
“That’s right. You were shaking all over, and you kept saying, ‘They’re taking over! They’re taking over!’ I reached over to wake you up, and you were terrified of me.” A pause. “…Have you been writing scary scenes before bed, again?”
February 6th, 2009 |
Posted in Life
| Tagged with dreams |
{Madeline Ashby}
...is a science fiction writer, grad student, おたく, and immigrant. She has lived on the outskirts of Los Angeles, Seattle, and Toronto, where she is now a member of the Cecil Street Irregulars and a contributor to both Tor.com and WorldChanging Canada. Her fiction has been published in Tesseracts, FLURB, and Nature.