ME: This Atkins insanity has officially gone mainstream.
COUSIN J: It works though, seen it with my own eyes. There's a reason why it's popular.
ME: But c'mon, burgers wrapped in lettuce instead of a bun? That's just freakishly wrong. Imagine an upside-down world where people eat meatballs without spaghetti, boiled MSG water without ramen, or sushi without rice.
COUSIN J: You mean sashimi?
COUSIN J: You said sushi without rice. That's sa...
ME: Oh screw you, protein lover.
I'm not one to write about dreams. That's more nondescriptboy's specialty. Since high school, I've hardly recalled any of my dreams - which means they're either not worth remembering, or my brain ditches my body as soon as I fall asleep and steals cars to pay off its gambling debts.
But a night ago I recalled not one, but two dreams. And, rarer still, they were nightmares.
In the first nightmare, these monsters were chasing me around Bloomingdales. Finally, they had me cornered in the women's shoe department. It was then I noticed something strange.
"Heyyy," I said while pointing at them. "You guys aren't monsters. You're just wearing costumes."
They looked at each other, then one of them spoke up.
"We're monsters, and we're going to tear into your flesh with our teeth and claws."
"No, seriously, take off your fucking masks. I can see your shirt peeking out along the neck area." I replied.
"Be scared, alright?" he demanded. "Just turn around and run real fast while we chase you."
At that point I woke up.
In the second nightmare, I found a house I really liked. It was a Neutra-designed home perched on top of a hill. The neighborhood itself was also filled with Neutra homes and willow trees that rustled pleasantly in the afternoon sun.
The real estate agent told me to come by later that evening to meet with the owner and sign the papers.
When I drove up at night, I thought I was in the wrong place. The neighborhood looked like a mummified corpse in the smoky moonlight. The ashen street was littered with debris, as if it hadn't seen life in decades. The beautiful, well-kept houses were now rundown, dark and empty. When I got to my house, I saw that it too was falling apart, with broken windows and no lights.
The real estate agent came out of the dark house to greet me. Her legs were gone. She floated toward me, holding the key. At this point, I figured I should forget the escrow and get the hell out of there. As I accelerated down the street, I saw other ghostly people emerging out of their homes. Like the houses, they were rotting with black, empty eyes. My neighbors.
I drove as fast as I could down the hill. Following relentlessly while repeatedly whispering my name, was a giant bun-less hamburger.
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