Ellen Pearson
I had a dream I clenched my teeth so tight that my molars cracked and fell out. I remember
spitting the pieces into my hand. In my dream, I squeezed my jaw so tight
from the stress and pain of losing my molars that all the rest of my teeth cracked into little pieces and I was left with none. Even in dreams, I find myself powerless.
When I woke up, I gritted my jaw and was surprised to find my teeth didn’t crack and fall
out of my mouth into my cereal.
On the day the world ended, it rained. I’d always expected it to end in fire. To end in screaming,
crackling, and exploding, torching trees and everything in its wake just like the movies,
but the world was quiet. No clattering of coffee cups far too early in the morning.
The only sound was the familiar fingers of rain tip tip tapping on our windows.
The only sound was the familiar fingers of rain tip tip tapping on my windows.
The universe didn’t cave in. Allegedly.
The house we built didn’t explode, leaving behind the debris of a life together on the ground. Allegedly. Everything was peaceful, it simply had come to an end.
I had a dream I was stranded in a strange place alone with no idea how to get home to you.
The world had been reduced to fiction,
and spiders– the only bug I have feared– were my only friend and hope of survival.
When I woke up from my nap, a spider crawled across my blanket, and I killed it without fear or mercy, leaving me alone in the tip tip tapping of the rain.
On the day the world ended, I refused to go outside, afraid of what I might find. I’m scared of
a red wasteland, of which I am the only survivor.
I’m scared of everything being fine, just darker now the sun has gone.
I had a dream the world began again, and that the sun came back. Gnomes and other critters popped their heads out of the earth. I started a new grocery list: waffle mix and carrots and the kind of pasta you like. When I woke up, it was still raining. No need for more pasta.
I baked cookies you don’t like to the tune of the tip tip tapping on my window,
grateful for the silence at the end of the world.