51/59: Too Too Tangle

Saturday night I slept restlessly, and several times had to get up to untangle my twisted blankets. I think I had dreams, but don't remember them, only fleeting images and a vague uneasiness each time I woke, as when a cloud shadow unexpectedly dims the sunlight. When I finally got up I felt sore all over, as though I'd been in a fight, and clearly I had been, with my bedclothes. But I have no idea why. What did I ever do to those fabrics, aside perhaps from neglecting to wash them often enough? And what did those mere fabrics ever do to me? All they were trying to do was keep me warm, which was just what I'd expected of them.

Well, I guess there were those times they'd tried to trap me or trip me, and I might have... did in fact... curse them. But then to attack me in my sleep? It seems so underhanded and unfair. I'm now a bit worried about my nap later today. Will I be safe? Can I continue to protect myself in my ache-weakened state? Will my lifeless body be found days hence, a blanket tightly wrapped around my throat, my unlit eyes bugged out, my swollen tongue protruding from my forever-stilled mouth? Hell if I know, but it seems I might now have more material for those distressing dreams I can't remember. Maybe I'll just turn the furnace way up and sleep without blankets.


( Sunday Verse )