The Eternal Pickle

I was a spiraling light through an inner-eye. It felt that the top of my head, my skull was opening out, blooming. I thought: ‘this is it kiddo, time for you to see if your beliefs will be revealed in that new place for your eternal mind, or just slip unnoticed into the no-name dark, the endless forgetting of all things.’ When I spoke of this, my wife blamed a bad pickle; it had earlier given her diarrhea. Funny thing, Last night I dreamt of eating pickles. A sign? A squeezy sensation followed that thought. I had to use the restroom to think things over once more.