Last night I had the dream again. This time it was a grisly, lumpy-faced giant with a snot-dripping nose. One of his huge hands had a good hold of my legs, while the other giant hand was yanking on my arms. Another time, it was four white horses pulling me apart. After that, it was the infamous rack. Always the same, my body pulled longer and longer -- stretched.
Bad dreams are bad dreams, but still just a dream. I can handle that. What really started bothering me was when I noticed my pant legs were too short. Then it was my shirt sleeves not reaching my wrists. So I wore sweats all the time to hide the fact that my clothes didn't fit. Eventually, even that didn't work. I was getting taller, longer.
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