Typing that title before coffee makes me feel a little queasy, but that’s what the dream was: three boar’s heads on my kitchen counter. In the dream, people were all around, talking, paying no attention to me, and I was focused on just how the hell I was going to cook these things. While I was brushing my teeth a few minutes ago, I realized the heads had been smoked (or something), because they weren’t, um, you know, bloody. They were dark, like smoked meat, and no hair or tusks, thank God for small favors.
That’s about all there was to it. A short-short dream clip. Aren’t dreams strange and wonderful, even when they’re grotesque?
Earlier in the week, a friend joined us on short notice for lunch. I ran up to the Publix grocery store before he arrived and picked up some Boar’s Head brand chicken salad, along with a pasta salad, spring greens, and fresh fruit.