I have Dreams - Parental Guidance Suggested on this Post

I have dreams. Often I have the kind of dreams that trick me into thinking that they are reality while I'm having them. Mostly my dreams are stupid. Sometime they are terrifying, occasionally they are profound.

Recently I had dream that I was back in my old home town of Oblong, Illinois 62449. The details have become somewhat sketchy, but the emotions and major plot points remain. I owned some sort of business in the fair city of Oblong, and during a discussion with a rival businessman tempers flaired. The day was sunny, and the scene of the arguement was within view of my Aunt Patsy's garden. Aunt Patsy's garden is a unique collection of heirloom plants, native grasses, and whatever happened to be new and on sale in the seed catalog. There are no rows to speak of, but in good years the asymetrical patterns of vegetables, flowers, herbs and weeds are to me more pleasant than any formal English garden. I feel her humble kind heart beat in the tall purple okra and vining stretching summer sqarsh [sic].

While within view of this place that is so special to my heart, I was standing in a fictitious cinderblock out building, It was pure white, with perhaps freshly paint blocks.

...As the words escalated I felt increasingly frightened and threatened. After that it was somthing of a blur. I am still aware of my arms flailing and of some heavy blunt object in my right hand. The first strike was awkward, and felt I had to strike again or risk being swallowed in the fury of my rival's retaliation. When I felt the blow land I knew what had just happened. I had ended him. He fell limp and the crimson reflection on the floor was mine. It was a mess. I was at first terrified and then intensely focused. I hid the body. I'm not sure where.

Where ever it was it was not good enough. It was found. I was caught. The authorities were on the way to arrest me. My life was over. I had committed murder. The gravest desparation shrouded me. In a moment contemplated running, fighting, lying. I couldn' though. I was guilty. Any excuse was weak, and attempt to justify what I had done was completely out of the question. I don't know if its possible to convey the feeling that gripped me.

The sirens of the Sheriff's department were approaching...they were odd sirens...

They were in fact the whine of my ridiculous alarm clock.. I had been asleep. I was awake, and it was Easter Morning 2006.

I felt the Mercy of Christ ring through my being at that moment. I could not sigh deeply enough to signal my relief. I was caught, I was guilty, I was as good as on the galloes. For some reason beyond my understanding, it was his good pleasure to erase my sin.