Oneirophobia

Chloe N. Clark

 


I had this terrible dream last night
in it everyone was dying
my husband was dying
my child was dying
my sister was dying
When I woke up, the house ached
with quiet
my daughter has a fever again and
              last week at the park, I looked away for a second
              and couldn’t find her, she was just playing
              away from my sight, but for a minute my heart
              beat my chest bloody
I got up and walked around a sleeping house
my footsteps sounding not quite my own
my husband still asleep
              at his job, he lectures to students about responsibility
              about doing the right thing, ethics, and sometimes
              he says a student seems angry, seems wired too tight,
              and I imagine campus as something filled with glass
I checked my phone for messages, as I poured
a glass of water, cool from the tap, nothing
from my sister, yet,
              though she told me the other day that her doctors
              described it as a monster—something taking over
              under her skin, spooling out fingers, is what she
              said they told her
I had this terrible dream last night
in it everyone was dying
my husband was dying
my child was dying
my sister was dying
              and I felt such easy relief.

 

 

 


Chloe N. Clark's work appears in Apex, Glass, Hobart, Uncanny, and more. Her chapbook The Science of Unvanishing Objects is forthcoming from Finishing Line Press. She can be found on Twitter @PintsNCupcakes or at chloenclark.com

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