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On the Essence of Dreams
I once read a satire that criticized dreaming. The author, who wrote it in the late 1800s, humorously elaborated upon the "boring" habit that people tend to partake in just after wakig up: telling others about their dreams. The satire is my personal favorite, even considering all other satires I have ever read. Yet, I disagree with the author. I actually find enjoyment in hearing the bizarre tales of others, the things that they experience in the dreamscape. So, please, share your dreams. It can be any dream you have ever had, vivid or bland. Sigmund Freud claimed that the driving factors of the human mind lay primarily in the subconscious, and though he was later proven mostly wrong, the things that present themselves when we are unconscious, such as in our dreams, are still interesting. I think you get the idea, so enjoy this challenge!
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TW
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The Cannibal Kid

I spent two years of my life in Peace Corps; long story short it was very cold, I lost fifty pounds my first year, and I wouldn't necessarily recommend it.

During my first year, I remember waking up after a really vivid nightmare aboard a cruise ship. The cruise ship was empty, floating adrift who knows where, and I was wandering the decks calling out for any signs of life.

Then at one point I turned a corner and came into a dining hall, where the table appeared used but empty. I hadn't figured out where the crew or passengers had gone, and I started searching around the hall for clues - who had been eating here? How long ago? Then my eyes caught these giant oil barrels over along one wall of the room.

You can't really smell in dreams, but I recall walking over to the barrels with a sense of dread. When I leaned over to look inside each of them was filled with fat - human fat and gristle, yellow, fly-covered, indigestible. The rest of the bodies were gone.

My POV suddenly pivoted and I looked up to see a mirror, with me standing in front of it. I was a child, wearing some Stephen King wardrobe of a floating white nightgown covered in gore. My lanky hair hung about my face, which had blood dripping in stomach-turning streaks that caused me to instantly scream and wake up.

-----

When I described this dream to my buddy over vodka he listened intently and just asked, "When's the last time you ate some meat?"

I started stopping by a local mom & pop diner for chicken twice a week after that.

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