This would be a dream he wouldn’t remember. He dreamt of yellow teeth, faded that way like the ceiling of a good centenarian bar in the late twentieth century. Yellow like golden sun. Yellow like wildflower stains on a little girl’s outstretched palms, mumbling something about pee. There had been a trick, he hadn’t been thinking of pee, he had been thinking of red hair. Pleasantly chubby fingers just beaten enough to say use. They were making something for him, but they would never give it to him, they preferred that which resembled their own, a coffin of fingers, rather than the outstretched lone finger he would have been able to offer if given a chance. Red and yellow make blue, red and yellow make nothing, and then the fingers were in his mouth, dirty, under his tongue inside his jowls melding into his teeth yellow as dandelion doo-doo pulling blood red quatrains of pain through them like Kenton through virgin cane lands fabled French men had mentioned in passing. He woke up choking and gargling on his own blood, quite a stretch before dawn. He spit it all to his side, and wiping his mouth with his hand he drew a big zero on his abdomen. He went back to sleep. This time he lay on his side so that what would come may drain while he may dream.
This would be a dream he would remember. He had to burp. Yet to burp he had to be over there. Except people kept getting in his way. But there, to the right, an opening, he ran through, bumped into someone else. His stomach pulled at him in gaseous pain. This pushed him around. Somehow he had ended up further away. They were pushing him back. He must to burping. He couldn’t hold it in. But it had to be over there he ran this time full tilt but a leg, innocuous, not accidental no way out and he felt it catch his shin and his chin directed itself naturally at the ground, would it be soft no it would be concrete he decided as his chin hit and unable to stop himself he let out a huge, enduring, deep, throbbing belch. This promptly turned into a newly awakened Job vomiting swallowed blood off to his side in the surprisingly warm late November morning.
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