The Third Degree

"The Third Degree" I’m thinking, if I am to commence this degree next year, then perhaps easier to have cats. I can’t leave a dog alone in the apartment all day. Unless I do the entire degree on-line. I dreamt last night I had two cats, one was this giant Blue Point Siamese, I called him Huxley (after Aldous Huxley) and I had another scraggly Black and White Mainecoon, I named Morticia. During the dream I was building a model of a city on the table here, the exception was it was entirely constructed of velvety scrumptious chocolate Devil's Food cake, iced with a thick Ganache; I proceeded to eat it on its completion. There were no lit candles for powder kegs. Bon Jovi was telling me I should have covered it in Hundreds and Thousands instead of spearmint leaves for unmanned forests. He's not one of my favourites. I said I’m happier without all the different coloured people, the leaves were pages of stories in forests to lose myself in. They tasted fresh, like toothpaste, after you give your teeth and mouth a good rinse and clean. One delicious colour was all I required for a peace of mind. I preferred dark over light. It was how one combined the ingredients, I went onto advise him, it's all in the recipe, you can't have ying without yang. I was then holding an extremely long draft stopper for the door, to keep the cold out. I was living alone with two cats in an Ice Age, freezing mist was seeping under the crack of the door, from what existed on the other side, into my secluded, warm protected space. The draft stopper was made of large grey furred rats (dead, but sleek), when asked what it was for, I said it’s food supply for the cats, the rats being dead people gone walk about in the wrong place, wake me when the war is over, I laughed, happy as Larry, the Big Blue Macaw (another story for another time), I said. The eggs I had boiling for breakfast were uncooked, broken and bleeding. Lost. No longer available for fertilising or consumption. A true dream. There was no loaded gun. All my people were gone. Non existent; save myself, I thought. (LadyLabyrinth / 2020) The moral of the story, do not read the news nor Brave New World, before you go to sleep. Nor contemplate purring cats who love rats before barking dogs who give you the third degree. 1. "Brave New World" / Aldous Huxley “I ate civilization. It poisoned me; I was defiled. And then,” he added in a lower tone, “I ate my own wickedness.” Huxley 2. "1984" / George Orwell