“Octopus, why do you have so many arms?”

I wrote that I had had a horrible dream the other night. I was in a back yard but it was a class room. The school marm was absent. I was making a point so stepped into the hall (which was through the back door of the yard’s out-building) and grabbed Octopus. When I had gotten back, one of the students said “Octopus, why do you have so many arms?” I had to step away for something.

When I had returned the students and teacher were gone and Octopus had morphed into two people. They had completely rearranged the yard/classroom and were busily salvaging anything they could get their hands on. I noted that the teacher wouldn’t be happy. We looked at an old school photo where I could make out my own classmates from grammar school. I pointed at one and said I knew him but they were all older in the photo.

I went away again and this time when I returned the people in the yard had become one fat person lying prone. He sat up a little and a look of realization set in as he discovered that the left side of his body—face, arms, legs and torso—had been viciously ripped from his body; entrails all. He lay back down—dead? I suppose.

I walked away from the yard and heard the sound of what I figured were the perpetrators. I was leaning against something that occluded their view of me and looking across from me I saw another person doing the same. That person was discovered. The people (who may or may not have destroyed the body of the person in the yard) shot tasers with cube shaped darts at the other person. As they turned to do the same to me I berated them and discovered that they were only children.