Hungry

 

Blood.  In the dream there was blood on my face.  Whose blood?  Why?  I think I was….No.  It’s not important.  It was just a dream.  Forget it.

 

The sun burned its image onto Calvin Remington’s eyes the moment he stepped outside.

 

“Jesus Christ!” he cursed as he fell to the ground outside his apartment door.  His fingers clawed for the door handle, but found only the flat surface of the door.  Finally, his hand met with the smooth metal of the knob and he quickly opened the door and crawled inside.

 

“What the hell happened?” he muttered to himself in dismay.  Calvin had never felt such searing pain in his life.  It was as if the sun had reached out and touched his eyes.   Glasses, he thought.  Dark glasses would help.  He stood and walked across the well-furnished room to a desk.  After rummaging around the drawer for a minute or two he found the object of his search, a pair of black and orange sunglasses that he had won at a carnival two months ago.  The word Gatorade was printed on the side.  These would do nicely.  He placed the Gatorade sunglasses over his eyes and peered out the window.  Much better.

 

Why was it that sunlight had this effect on him lately?  It was clearly getting worse.  It had gone from a slight annoyance to a crippling allergy in only eleven days.  What was next?

 

He picked up the phone and dialed his work number.  He couldn’t go to work like this.  Hell no.  After making an excuse to his boss, Calvin lied down on the couch and drifted to sleep.

 

He had been eating; he was sure of that.  But what had he been eating?  Could it have been…

 

Buzzzzzzz.  The doorbell.  That’s what woke me up, he thought.  It was a dream.

 

Calvin staggered from the couch still wearing his Gatorade sunglasses.  He looked through the peephole and saw a familiar face.  It’s Laura, he thought.  She’s come to see me on her lunch break.

 

 He opened the door.

 

“Laura, how nice to see you.  Come in.”

 

“Did I wake you?” she asked after seeing his ruffled hair and half-asleep expression.

 

“Yes, but it’s not important.  Come in.”

 

“How are you feeling?” she asked.  “You look pale.”

 

Calvin grinned.  “I feel much better, Laura.  I hope you can stay for lunch.  In fact, I insist.”

 

She did.



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