The Negotiator
We've mentioned previously that The Wife is having a friend over for an all day Harry Potter reading. They're taking a break as I write this.
We post today, having been reminded by The Wife and her friend of an interesting dream the night before. I know that most of the time you hear about someones dream it's a long boring farcical journey brought to you by the warren of their subconscious. But mine feels different. There seems to be a moral lesson here.
I'm in our old house, but it's bigger, and The Wife's friend and a friend of the friend are there. The Wife is there somewhere. I go upstairs and discover stout furry monsters that have taken residence in the second floor and the attic. One of them comes around the corner angry and about to fight. I don't know why, but I just happen to have my Mossberg shotgun at hand.
In past nightmares the monster' policy is to kill on sight. This one screams, flails its arms, and in a second is right on me. I grab hold of it. It's so close I can see steely little eyes and large teeth. The standoff lasts a second, then I let go and back off a step. Then the monster backs up a step. We start a dialog.
We're here to stay, it says.
That's fine, I'm selling the house anyway.
It's strange but none of this seems too out of the ordinary. I notice the monster looks like it needs something.
Are you hungry? I can leave you food. We have more than enough.
We'll feed ourselves.
I won't get into your business up here. I need to go through the attic and see if I left anything important behind. Will you and your clan be alright with that?
The monster steps aside. At no point did I consider the Mossberg. That's good since in every other dream my guns don't work. They just sputter and the villain, human or otherwise, carries on.
I go through the attic, more monsters stand around, I find nothing of value was left behind. I leave and I wake up. I remember that I was tired. Was it from years of these things? I don't know. It seemed a lot easier to find understanding than to fight.
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