After I graduated, not having to wake up early in the morning has led me to a really bad habit: stay up late watching horror movies and shows. And with The Walking Dead and American Horror Story with their shockingly disturbing new seasons, it's no surprise my dreams have been influenced. I guess my parents weren't really good at teaching me the dangers of watching scary things just before going to bed. Not that I really care, of course.
I don't remember much of this dream. I do know I was sitting on a wooden chair, and I think it was too small for me, but I was sitting there staring at nothing in particular, when suddenly a crawling zombie ( I hate crawling things, even crawling babies scare the hell out of me, watch Trainspotting for more info on this) entered the room. Surprisingly, I wasn't scared...or maybe I was too scared to go anywhere. I remember looking at the zombie shirt, and thinking: "what a shame, that is exactly the pattern I've been looking for everywhere!"
While I was planning how to see the shirt tag without getting bitten, the zombie was on his knees right in front of me, and somehow I suddenly understood what he wanted. He wanted the same I want 24/7! I call it gentle-scratching (this sounds way better in spanish). Sliding the fingertips down my arms and/or back makes me want to die like Marion Cotillard, play dead like this donkey or fall into the catatonic state chickens fall into when hypnotized. It's just pure pleasure.
This zombie wanted that! So I started sliding my fingers down his -rotten- back; aware that I would maybe have to clean my nails after that. The zombie started purring like a kitten -and possibly drooling too- but I felt like we were really bonding. Then, I woke up.