I dream constantly of monsters and creatures that aren’t from the world we live in but they’re ever so real and interlaced with the life I lead in my subconscious.

Though I call them monsters, they are non-threatening. The ones who don’t speak are furry, familiar and alien at the same time who nibble at your feet as you discuss mundane topics at a dinner table.

Others who do are gentle in their speech. While keeping at a distance, they sit on the grass with you as they tell you stories from their lives. Their tone is unintentional, and matter-of-factly, like an elder tree sharing their wisdom of things they’ve seen.

From time to time, they’ll tell you something that doesn’t make sense in the dream world, but does in world we wake up in.

Last night, they told me

…

Funny how you forget what they say the moment you try to write it down.

I knew I remembered it while typing.

But now I don’t.