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You're shaking hands with demons
I didn't sleep more than three hours last night. I dreamed I took the Devil out for his birthday.
A devil, anyway. He looked exactly the way you would expect a devil to look in a dream of mine: small, dark, a little shabby around the edges. A very quiet manner and a wistful smile. He had miscalculated the mass of a human body: I could pick him up in my arms like a toddler. He could sit on my shoulder like a cat. We must have looked like street theater, but nobody commented on it. I bought him flowers; they ended the night as a bunch of wilted irises tied with white string. We went to an all-night market and looked at heaps of fruit of all different seasons, but I don't recall that we left with any. We talked easily and enthusiastically, like people with common interests. I liked him immensely and knew that was dangerous; he smiled apologetically and never lost that breath-pricking edge of danger radiating from him like cold. Toward dawn, he slid off my shoulder and folded his hand into mine: it had been empty and then there was a stone in it, small and rounded and cool, translucently lavender-blue. I thought in the dream that it was chalcedony; awake, I think it must have been agate, like the Babylonian stamp seal in the MFA that I have coveted since I was very small. I knew there was nothing I could take from him safely. He knew it and offered anyway. I missed him when I woke, which I suppose is something the Devil relies on.
I woke and my e-mail was offline. At least I didn't have anything really planned for today past lots and lots of work. It looks nice outside.
A devil, anyway. He looked exactly the way you would expect a devil to look in a dream of mine: small, dark, a little shabby around the edges. A very quiet manner and a wistful smile. He had miscalculated the mass of a human body: I could pick him up in my arms like a toddler. He could sit on my shoulder like a cat. We must have looked like street theater, but nobody commented on it. I bought him flowers; they ended the night as a bunch of wilted irises tied with white string. We went to an all-night market and looked at heaps of fruit of all different seasons, but I don't recall that we left with any. We talked easily and enthusiastically, like people with common interests. I liked him immensely and knew that was dangerous; he smiled apologetically and never lost that breath-pricking edge of danger radiating from him like cold. Toward dawn, he slid off my shoulder and folded his hand into mine: it had been empty and then there was a stone in it, small and rounded and cool, translucently lavender-blue. I thought in the dream that it was chalcedony; awake, I think it must have been agate, like the Babylonian stamp seal in the MFA that I have coveted since I was very small. I knew there was nothing I could take from him safely. He knew it and offered anyway. I missed him when I woke, which I suppose is something the Devil relies on.
I woke and my e-mail was offline. At least I didn't have anything really planned for today past lots and lots of work. It looks nice outside.
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This gave me chills.
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It wasn't even a nightmare.
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Thank you. That's the one part of it I can take credit for!
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It was a lovely time! Just also diabolical.
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Thank you. I am afraid that last night's dreams were a combination of medical nightmares and cleaning up after the cat, both of which I can get when I'm awake, thanks. At least I should have nightmares about something totally implausible; it makes a change.
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Nine
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Thank you. I was glad to remember it.
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I would have had to keep it then!
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Even the geology of the devil proves a trickster. Seriously, I think you could have a Patreon for your dreams alone! Hope the e-mail's up and running soon.
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I like that line.
Seriously, I think you could have a Patreon for your dreams alone!
I keep track of the ones I can! Last night's were good, too. It's a nice change.
Hope the e-mail's up and running soon.
Thank you. So far, alas, no go.
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I could pick him up in my arms like a toddler. He could sit on my shoulder like a cat. I could pick him up in my arms like a toddler. He could sit on my shoulder like a cat.
This needs a picture. A charming shoulder devil without a nightshirt angel on the other side.
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Thank you. It was one of the better dreams I had had in some time, albeit a little unsettling in context.
This needs a picture. A charming shoulder devil without a nightshirt angel on the other side.
Please, feel free to illustrate!
the devil's birthday
Re: the devil's birthday
That's beautiful!
Thank you.
Re: the devil's birthday