Satan’s Midnight Felony

I don’t know if this has ever happened to you, but Satan accosted my Sandman last night.

My toddler skipped her nap, so I was looking forward to a full night’s rest… but apparently having her sleep schedule messed with (even though SHE did her OWN messing) doesn’t sit right with her, and she got up every two hours to tell me about it.
Between her sob stories, I had dreams. Oh, the dreams!
I was pick-pocketed by a troubled teen  in the lobby of a darkened movie theater where children weren’t allowed to play video games -apparently they had need of a new hobby, video games being out of the question, and so turned to thievery. Minutes after leaving the theater, I was passenger in a car that drove off of a bridge and plummeted into rippling, dark waters. I escaped and found my way to the local police station where they refused to take me seriously despite my being victimized and narrowly escaping death all in one night.
That’s when I woke up -yet again -to find Satan’s hell-fire infested sand IN MY THROAT and yea though I coughed and spat, the fire would not subside.
And Alice wanted milk.
And I couldn’t not find her bottle.  The only pleasantness to be found was in Alice’s groggy, “Bless you’s” after I’d hack up phlegm.

I wanted all at once for night to end and night to not end because daylight meant GETTING UP.

My body aches, and Alice shows no sign of having ever passed The Evil Night with me.
But me? I?

I don’t want to talk about it.
Unless you’re the Nocturnal Dream Police. Because I have a warrant for Satan’s arrest and SOMEone needs to be doing something about it.
I would, you understand, but I’m foggy -as foggy as the thick fog hanging over my town this very cold Northern Arizona morning -and I’m going to spend time with my herbal tea and blankies and vengeance.

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