Took a nap. Woke up. Had some kind of dream about two shapeshifting blobby things, called the Ragged Thing and the Smooth Thing, (possibly my use of the word “thing” has invaded my subconscious in terrifying new ways) and a boy that one of them had made out of a tyrant flycatcher (a type of bird I’ve never seen, but keep flipping past in the bird book on my way to somewhere else.) Vague and nonsensical. The blobs were evil, but the Smooth Thing kept trying to warn me telepathically, although it seemed really hopeless and depressed, while the Ragged Thing lined up all the locals, marched them out of the laundromat, and convinced them to ride horses off cliffs for no apparent reason.
Possibly this reveals my deep-seated terror that the next time I go to do laundry, I will be telepathical controlled by an invertebrate shapeshifter and made to ride a horse off a cliff. Or, then again, maybe it doesn’t.
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