Last Night I Killed A Man

Last night I dreamt that I killed a friend from my past.

Tyrone (in reality) was a good friend until I came out, then literally turned his back on me.  No loss, I haven’t missed him for a moment in the last 15 years.

Tyrone (in dreamland) was at a party I was throwing.  I’m not sure how I killed him, but he was in the kitchen making a drink when I realized there were no witnesses around.  So I did whatever I did, and stuffed his corpse into the pantry.

Trying to dispose of the body was complicated.  I tried shoving him out the window into the compost bin, but he was too bulky and heavy.  I tried chopping him into bits and walking him out in shopping bags, but I buy crap kitchen knives – they were too dull.

After that, escape seemed to occupy the time.  How could I get away?  When was the last time anyone saw him?  My answer was going to be that he’d wandered away from the party plastered, after I wouldn’t let him drive home drunk.  What, he didn’t turn up at home?  “Gosh officer, I have no idea what could have happened.”  There was a lot of time spent in the dream performing risk assessments.  If I do this, how can I explain it?  If I say this, how can it be countered?  The more I investigated, the clearer my answers and alibis would be.

Funny, morality never entered my mind.

At one point, I woke up to get a blanket.  I told Wife that I’d dreamt of killing someone.  She casually mumbled something like “don’t do that honey.”  Gotta love a woman that doesn’t judge!