I fell asleep in the living room last night and had some sort of nightmare. I would tell you what it was about, but I’m trying to be more honest in my writing, and I don’t remember it at all. I rarely remember my dreams.
I climbed upstairs to the bedroom and slid into Sophia’s bed. She was sleeping and mumbled something about me “waking her up.” I lay there in that half-sleep, half-awake state when the mind seems to be at the most volatile and creative. I had some amazing insightful thought about my life, so important that it was worthy of waking Sophia up for a second time.
“You know what my problem is.” I announced. “I think other people are “bigger” — more important than me — and I’m too “small.” I should think of myself as a giant to compensate. Someone fearless. A fearless giant.”
“Huh? A what?” moaned Sophia, groggily.
“Felix Giant?Â I thought it was Felix the Cat.”
“I’m not talking about Felix the Cat.”
“Isn’t Felix the Cat a cartoon?” she asked with her eyes still closed.
“I’ve never seen it. Is it funny?”
“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen it, either. It’s a pretty old cartoon.”
“So, Felix the Cat was a giant?” she slurred.
“Forget Felix the Cat. What I said was “Fear-less Giant.” I want to feel bigger. Not afraid.”
Sophia rolled over and went back to sleep.
“You want to have sex?” I asked.
A Year Ago on Citizen of the Month:Â My Brilliant Literary Career