Where Cats Go When They Dream
A short story
“I want to go where cats go when they dream.” My husband stares at me blankly. He’s used to my odd ramblings before we turn out the light. “They look so peaceful. Ever wonder where they go?”
The blank look turns to placation.
“They probably sit in front of a massive bowl of fish and hook um out when they fancy a bite to eat.”
Satisfied with his reply, he rolls over, and within two minutes, his nose erupts into guffawing snores.
I lie on my back, contemplating where our feline friends drift when their lids close.
I forget he’s sleeping.
“Maybe they rest on a cloud in space. A comfy cloud, more like a furry rug than a regular cloud, because normal clouds can’t hold your weight.”
The snores get louder, and I realize I’m talking to myself. Still, why not?
“I’m picturing a furry rug in space right now.”
“I can feel the fur under me and on my skin. Mmm. It’s soft.”
“My body sinks into the fur an inch. Two inches, and I am so relaxed.”
“Comets race by in a flash. But, since my rug is suspended in space doing nothing, I fall asleep, undisturbed…”
Morning light streams through the edges of the bedroom curtains, and my husband awakens.
I turn to him. “Sleep well?”
“Yes. I had a strange dream, though.”
“What was it?”
“I was floating in space.”
“Not hooking fish from a bowl?”
The next night, after discovering my success at accidentally hypnotizing my husband in his sleep, I decide to up the ante. My ambition has grown.
I lay in wait, longing for the snoring to start.
“Guffawh. Flumunnck. Phorh…”
The time’s right, and I issue my instructions to the sleeping man.
“You put down the TV remote and head to the kitchen.”
“So happy to see the rubber gloves now. On they go. That’s right.”
“Filling the bowl with hot water and bubbles and loving washing those dishes.”
“You love washing the dishes.”
“Yes, you do. Mmm, washing dishes is fun!”
We’re in the kitchen the following day.
I glance at him and ask, “Anything you feel like doing?”
“Yes,” he says, widening his eyes and crumpling his forehead. “there is something.”
“What?”
“I feel like watching you wash the dishes.”
He grins, pulls out a chair, and sits in prime, watching washing up take place position.
“You weren’t really asleep then?”
“No. I was waiting for you to take me where cats go when they dream like the night before.”