My Boots Are Full of Mice!
In a recent post, I lamented that my dreams are nowhere near as cool as Michael Swanwick’s. While on the way to the train station this morning, I remembered* a dream I had last night, which, while still not as cool, at least feels like progress.
I was sitting around with a bunch of people I haven’t seen since elementary school. A mouse ran across the floor in front of me, which prompted me to yell “My boots are full of mice!” I looked down and saw that I was wearing big, black, knee-high galoshes. Little mouse heads and tails kept popping up as the mice ran up and down my legs. I removed my boots, and poured a stream of mice out of each.
So there.
*I was prompted to remember this dream by a leaf blowing past my foot, which looked like a bit like a mouse to my half-asleep brain. I actually said “My boots are full of mice,” aloud, and the dream came rushing back to me. It’s probably best that no one else was around.