A few nights ago I had a dream I was living at my mom’s house while Mr. J was deployed somewhere inaccessible. None of the cats were there, otherwise this dream would have been more awkward than it was, so I decided to adopt a dog, I think, the dog just kinda showed up. It was a black dachshunds with really stumpy legs. Well, my mom’s house has a lot of stuff in it and the dog kept running around getting lost under things. I didn’t have a kennel or any kind of bedding for it yet, I only had a leash that was too big for it. The leash was made for something lion sized, not dachshund sized so I had no way to contain this dog. So I’m looking for it and looking for it and then I finally find it/it finally comes back to me and it has this really guilty look on its face. I ask it what’s wrong and it just starts shitting everywhere. Like, not basic, containable shit but projectile shit. I freak out and try to grab it to control where the shit goes as it’s leaving this dog and I get shit all over my hands and my wrists. Then I woke up.
Jessica Halsey is the author of The Slaughter Chronicles and many strange poems. She lives in Arkansas and writes urban fantasy, preternatural horror, and experimental poetry (and sometimes science fiction). View all posts by jessicahalseywrites