Dreams of a sneaking self
by Ken Carpenter
I wrote this one in 2004, about a vivid dream I had that I can still remember. It ended up causing a rude gigglefest once the terror ebbed away.
I don’t remember most of my dreams, which is probably a good thing. The ones I do remember are usually either scary or totally whacked out. I suppose I should expect crazy dreams since my waking hours are often filled with an overdose of demented thoughts.
If that comes as no surprise, hello my friend.