Dream Journal
I sat in a staff meeting discussing what to do with a large mound of manure. The boss said that he lined up a volunteer to haul it away for us, but another staff member said that would be a little drastic: she could use most of it in her garden. I thought that was a great idea and wanted some for my small flower boxes.
I stood over the mound, shoveling it into small cardboard boxes with a tiny shovel. There were large shading trees around me. Because my shovel was so small, it was taking a very long time to fill one box. A man came to help me, and I stepped away for a break.
Sitting on the left of my father, I shoved my fork into his thigh. he flinched from the pain, and I removed my hand from the fork. He told me to keep going.
I shoved the fork in further at an angle and ripped out a chunk of his muscle. I pierced his skin again and then removed the fork tines. He said that if we were going to finish this, it needed to be now, but make it quick. The time for this was slipping away.
Themes: Dad