I had a horrible nightmare that lasted practically all night long; its effect lingering still this morning. Each time I awoke, I'd bolt upright in my bed about to scream, sweaty, my heart pounding wildly while still wrestling against imaginary captors that were stopping me from saving my son. Once I was sufficiently calm and aware of my surroundings it took me 45 min or so before I'd go back to sleep. Each time the dreaming continued, only to have the same end result.

The dream was a melding of a story by Orianna Fallaci, I read a few years ago, and a ritual killing I witnessed as a child while visiting Morroco. The brutal scene from when I was 8 years old, comes back to haunt me from time to time. In the extended entry IÂ’ve posted the excerpt from FallaciÂ’s book that haunts me subconsciously and which I woke up recalling this morning. It pretty much sums up my nightmare with the exception that my son was the little boy at the end of the story. I suggest only those with a strong spirit click through and read on.
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Posted by: Michele at 11:51 PM | Comments (6) | Add Comment
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