Bad Dream, Good Brother

 

Bit-sized, cowering, closed in the corner of a small white case, the lash-like echoes of scrabbling insects layered around me like a shifting wind in my face– was that what this was, my face, that saw a column of red ants pour in flanked by spiders on bowed legs like crutches?. The box must have been set down in a garden: there was a gleam of sky in the banks of my attackers’ eyes. Love’s way up there but that’s no saving grace. Into a stark white angle I was pressed. Dust and mites and grit clung to the legs of my oppressors. Maybe it was as good a setting as I was going to get for an ending. Better than a long slow maiming, or a stupid accident.  I would give them what I had left to give, a ceremonial defense. But then in the opening of the box my brother’s huge pale hand appeared, the faint red hairs on his knuckles.   He mouthed, It’s just a dream.  Was I the incredible shrinking human  condition, overrun, unsaveable, so small?  They cornered me. My antennae flattened. I saw my brother’s sweat-flat hair.  His fingertips traced through the horde , he was feeling for me, his monstrous powerful digits scattering the goons, but crushing me too:  he couldn’t repel them without doing me in, the tide must turn too late. And then I was opened out on my back. The mob was on me in an instant.