When time gone by

I had a dream about you last night.

We were in a large basement, much like the ones at home. You brought home a man in a chic suit. You swore up and down to me that he was a real bird; you really had to take care of him. He clucked and tweeted and sat in a corner of nested blankets. I stared at him viciously, wondering what could possess a man to do such a thing.

You came over with food. "Did you regurgitate it?" I asked. You rolled your eyes at me. "Well that's how you'll feed a grown man acting like a baby bird. You'll just throw up in his mouth." I spat, crossing my arms and tapping my foot. You shook your head and walked away, saying you needed to prepare better food.

I walked over to the man and jerked him by the arm. "Stop it!" I screamed. "Stop thinking you can come in fuck up our lives!" I yelled even louder. The man flapped his wings and ran off, shaking his head in disbelief that I could see past the faux feathers and poor acting.

I woke with a headache and a mild feeling of bitterness. I don't like it when my subconscious morphs my past like that.