Dream Journal: Torso

I'm lying in bed, unable to sleep. [In the dream.] I try to kick off the covers and get up. Maybe I'll do some chores... But my legs don't work. I can't move.

Starting to get scared. I'm hitting my legs through the blanket with my fists. I don't feel anything. I am screaming for help but I live alone. It's 3 a.m. No one can hear me.

With a great deal of pain and effort I pull myself to a sitting position. Are... are my legs getting longer?? No. My legs are gone. Separated from my body. This can't be happening.

I turn on the lamplight. Yes. My legs are under the covers, alone. There is no blood. No mess at all. Holding my breath, I lift the blanket, trying to ignore my rootless buttocks. My thighs are looking back at me, the femur bone and flesh neatly cut like a cartoon. From this angle, they look like two big Flintstone steaks.

Somehow I am calm, now that I see the situation. I look over to the nightstand. There is a kind of soil in a jar. I somehow know that this is what I need... I stand my legs up next to the bed. They wobble but stay vertical. Never noticed that scar before. I sprinkle the soil on the exposed flesh at the top of my thighs. The legs start to shake.

Maybe I passed out for a moment. The legs are back under the covers, attaching to me... it feels like a weird massage, but inside the flesh.