I Have Strange Dreams
It's daytime. I argue with my father about insignificant things as usual, we argue but neither of us is in a bad mood. The argument moves to housekeeping. There's a trail of ants across the kitchen floor from a couple bread crumbs towards a crack in the wall. I never noticed that before. I wondered what could make the concrete wall crack, it would take a lot of force.
For some reason I think tree roots, I saw a tree's roots lift up a sidewalk and emerge trough a street's asphalt, but then again we are too high up for tree roots to be in the walls. I try to remember what floor this is but somehow i can't remember how high up we live.
While I'm wondering about silly things I notice my dad getting near the ant infested crack in the wall with a cylinder of ant poison dust. I somehow feel it's wrong, they're not at fault here and wonder how many would die in pain for a few crumbs of bread. I swat the ants away from their neat little supply row and the ones that didn't get swatted across the kitchen scatter in random patterns. My dad looks at me confused trying to figure out what I'm doing. I'm not so sure myself.
I look at my right hand and there's a big blister on my forearm. I look at my dad then at the ant poison cylinder and think it must have spilled on my arm somehow and maybe gave me an allergic reaction. At least it doesn't seem to hurt. It's about 3 centimeters in diameter and has a transparent little section in the middle while the rest seems inflamed. I try to examine the transparent beady center and then i see them, the moving antenae of a curious ant peeking from inside the blister feeling the thinly stretched skin between it and my wide open eyes then hastily retreating out of sight inside the inflamated flesh mound.
My stomach seemed to knock against my tonsils with a vengeance and I thought I would faint, but I didn't my left hand grabbed my right hand tight right under the gross protuberance like my grip could stop the invader from crawling away trough my arm. I remembered a documentary where they were taking out a boatfly larva out of an unfortunate animal's back so i started pinching the huge zit and putting all my hopes on the ant (could it still be called an ant?) not seeing this as hostile. It popped without a sound and a drop of two of clear liquid spilled out. No ant in sight. I kept squeezing and slowly i saw it emerge, the antenae then the slowly closing and opening mandibles then those huge buggy eyes. It slowly and uncomfortably got out, i could feel it but i felt no pain. I could finaly see it's body, "a queen" i thought, it was bigger than an ant about a wasp's size but otherwise it looked like a regular ant, it had no wings. No wings, perhaps it's not a queen, or perhaps not all queens have wings?
It dropped to the floor and it's mandibles stopped their pinching motion and then it's legs squeezed close to it's body. It must be dead. Perhaps I had pinched it too while trying to make it get out? The wound still remained though and I wasn't too content with that. Who ever heard of such a parasitic insect attack where I live? I peeled at the skin of the wound to find it dead. It felt like removing the dead skin after a bad sunburn, not painful, not pleasant, i wondered how much of my forearm will be hollowed there and would it scar? But I suddenly forgot about that as i saw it move. THE LEG. Thick black smooth kitinous like a beetle's back but blacker than anything I ever saw.
Ah the queen, I thought, the queen had to be Bigger somehow the thought made sense to me. I kept peeling the skin to reveal the parasite. An ant the size of a men's watch was just sitting there inside my arm lazily moving it's legs one against eachother. It's boddy was short and thick and it's legs just the same, you could draw an almost perfect circle trough the tips of all it's legs, it didn't look like the long slender presence of an ant more like the short and strong air of a jumping spider. I was too grossed out and frankly too terrified to touch it. I had even forgot my father was right there, he stepped on the dead ant and reached out to grab my wrist but I was too scared, I flinched and pulled back twisting my wrist with the wound to the floor, and the creature let itself fall to the floor, where of course it landed on it's black diamond feet. I Grabbed the only object I had at hand ( i wasn't going to step on that! what if it could crawl inside my leg?) and put it on top of it, i didn't even slam it on the queen like i was afraid of getting it angry. Now I looked at the great deed stupefied. My phone layed on top of the horror born of my hand. I wondered what the hell my end game could have been with this move and while I wondered why I did such a stupid move, the ant just started walking away with my phone. I was fascinated by it, not only was a parasitic ant stealing my smartphone, it was also moving unantlike, it seemed more like that smooth predatory steps of a tarantula rather than the jumpy ant runabout.
I turned my head to my father to ask for his opinion and I find him filming the and with his phone. "What the hell dad!?" "An ant is stealing your phone" "And you're just filming that instead of doing something!?" "Son, it's not like anyone would believe this unless they saw it with their own eyes" "But dad, a killer parasitic ant is just getting away with my stuff!" He shrugged his shoulder like saying <it happens>. I wanted to be so mad at him, but I remembered he was dead and I missed him and it made the dream break and I woke up. My arm was OK obviously and no one stole my phone(yet).
For some reason I think tree roots, I saw a tree's roots lift up a sidewalk and emerge trough a street's asphalt, but then again we are too high up for tree roots to be in the walls. I try to remember what floor this is but somehow i can't remember how high up we live.
While I'm wondering about silly things I notice my dad getting near the ant infested crack in the wall with a cylinder of ant poison dust. I somehow feel it's wrong, they're not at fault here and wonder how many would die in pain for a few crumbs of bread. I swat the ants away from their neat little supply row and the ones that didn't get swatted across the kitchen scatter in random patterns. My dad looks at me confused trying to figure out what I'm doing. I'm not so sure myself.
I look at my right hand and there's a big blister on my forearm. I look at my dad then at the ant poison cylinder and think it must have spilled on my arm somehow and maybe gave me an allergic reaction. At least it doesn't seem to hurt. It's about 3 centimeters in diameter and has a transparent little section in the middle while the rest seems inflamed. I try to examine the transparent beady center and then i see them, the moving antenae of a curious ant peeking from inside the blister feeling the thinly stretched skin between it and my wide open eyes then hastily retreating out of sight inside the inflamated flesh mound.
My stomach seemed to knock against my tonsils with a vengeance and I thought I would faint, but I didn't my left hand grabbed my right hand tight right under the gross protuberance like my grip could stop the invader from crawling away trough my arm. I remembered a documentary where they were taking out a boatfly larva out of an unfortunate animal's back so i started pinching the huge zit and putting all my hopes on the ant (could it still be called an ant?) not seeing this as hostile. It popped without a sound and a drop of two of clear liquid spilled out. No ant in sight. I kept squeezing and slowly i saw it emerge, the antenae then the slowly closing and opening mandibles then those huge buggy eyes. It slowly and uncomfortably got out, i could feel it but i felt no pain. I could finaly see it's body, "a queen" i thought, it was bigger than an ant about a wasp's size but otherwise it looked like a regular ant, it had no wings. No wings, perhaps it's not a queen, or perhaps not all queens have wings?
It dropped to the floor and it's mandibles stopped their pinching motion and then it's legs squeezed close to it's body. It must be dead. Perhaps I had pinched it too while trying to make it get out? The wound still remained though and I wasn't too content with that. Who ever heard of such a parasitic insect attack where I live? I peeled at the skin of the wound to find it dead. It felt like removing the dead skin after a bad sunburn, not painful, not pleasant, i wondered how much of my forearm will be hollowed there and would it scar? But I suddenly forgot about that as i saw it move. THE LEG. Thick black smooth kitinous like a beetle's back but blacker than anything I ever saw.
Ah the queen, I thought, the queen had to be Bigger somehow the thought made sense to me. I kept peeling the skin to reveal the parasite. An ant the size of a men's watch was just sitting there inside my arm lazily moving it's legs one against eachother. It's boddy was short and thick and it's legs just the same, you could draw an almost perfect circle trough the tips of all it's legs, it didn't look like the long slender presence of an ant more like the short and strong air of a jumping spider. I was too grossed out and frankly too terrified to touch it. I had even forgot my father was right there, he stepped on the dead ant and reached out to grab my wrist but I was too scared, I flinched and pulled back twisting my wrist with the wound to the floor, and the creature let itself fall to the floor, where of course it landed on it's black diamond feet. I Grabbed the only object I had at hand ( i wasn't going to step on that! what if it could crawl inside my leg?) and put it on top of it, i didn't even slam it on the queen like i was afraid of getting it angry. Now I looked at the great deed stupefied. My phone layed on top of the horror born of my hand. I wondered what the hell my end game could have been with this move and while I wondered why I did such a stupid move, the ant just started walking away with my phone. I was fascinated by it, not only was a parasitic ant stealing my smartphone, it was also moving unantlike, it seemed more like that smooth predatory steps of a tarantula rather than the jumpy ant runabout.
I turned my head to my father to ask for his opinion and I find him filming the and with his phone. "What the hell dad!?" "An ant is stealing your phone" "And you're just filming that instead of doing something!?" "Son, it's not like anyone would believe this unless they saw it with their own eyes" "But dad, a killer parasitic ant is just getting away with my stuff!" He shrugged his shoulder like saying <it happens>. I wanted to be so mad at him, but I remembered he was dead and I missed him and it made the dream break and I woke up. My arm was OK obviously and no one stole my phone(yet).
