Phantasmagoria

After a decent bout in the gym earlier today I stretched out and dozed by a window that lets in the afternoon sun (cats will usually come and sit on you if you sleep there). Not quite asleep, I had a sudden hypnagogic vision of a midget Dick Cheney — well, sort of child-sized, except with a regular Dick Cheney head, little glasses and all — wearing a propeller beanie, otherwise attired in a T-shirt and short pants like any typical 1950’s child cartoon character, little bare legs and feet chugging through a similarly dated domestic interior while he looked back over his shoulder, waving his arms awkwardly overhead and cackling with merry, mocking laughter.

Anyone’s interpretation of this vision will be considered.

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11 thoughts on “Phantasmagoria

    • There is that. But then why would something so obvious — and long established, in its way — come to me as a vision on the threshold of sleep? One would almost prefer Dr. James’ “Overall there is a smell of fried onions.”

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