Yesterday morning I decided to do some weeding. The ground was soft from rain and the weather was cool. So I weeded. Then I came inside. And washed up. I noticed a red mark on my temple. It itched a bit so I slopped some Benadryl cream on it and got on with the rest of my day.
In the afternoon when child number three got home from class and saw me, he said, “Wow. That’s interesting.” I went to look in the mirror. My upper eyelid was swollen. Hmm. I tried some ice. It didn’t help.
By dinner, the lower eyelid was swelling and my eye was watering. I made cold compresses. I was avoiding oral Benadryl because it makes my hands shake. By evening, child two came home from an exam and said, “If you don’t do something about your eye, it will swell shut.” Cal said, “Whoa, you look like you’ve been punched in the face, only no bruising.”
So I took Benadryl. And went to sleep, and woke up a lot. But the dreams...
I dreamt of a 50 foot brick fireplace with a wide maw. And it was hungry. I saw rows of old-fashioned tuxedo collars that looked suspiciously like constrictors. I saw psychedelic paint that rippled and danced malevolently. And I rode in elevators that opened into nothingness. If I’d dreamt of tutu-clad elephants carrying stilettos, I’d have known I was in a macabre version of Fantasia.
When I woke up this morning (my eye still looks terrible), I wished that I wrote speculative fiction because I’d have material enough for a month of short stories. Has anyone else ever had Benadryl dreams?