Cause and effect

Something woke me- a repetitive but not altogether unpleasant sound. I was now laying in the dark and waiting for it to be repeated. There. I wasn't dreaming. This time I distinctly heard a faint ploink sound coming from far away. There it is again. On the third ploink I decide to get up and investigate. "4:00 am", the annoyingly bright green LED alarm clock announces. The alley light beams through the window so brightly that I don't even need to turn the bed lamp on. Dang, I must have kicked my slippers all the way under the bed because I don't see them. I'll just go barefoot, I decide. The staircase is well lit by the porch light which is good, as I don't want to disturb the sleeping by flicking on the hall light. I peek over to the bed. There he is, sound asleep and breathing so quietly that it's almost inaudible; in fact, I don't recall hearing it at all just now.

Good thing we tightened these floor boards when we redid the floors; it means I can move around with almost no squeaking. As I step down the last of the fourteen steps, I expect to see my kitty under the dining room table, chirping with joy at the prospect of a very early breakfast. She's not there, nor is she around the corner on the back of the couch, looking out at the still-dark street. Little scamp, she's probably in the basement on her pillow, covered over by her blanket and fast asleep.

The kitchen is well illuminated by the light over the garage which, oddly, seems farther away than it usually does. I realize that the kitchen sink is not the source of the dripping noise; there isn't anything in it. It must be coming from the basement then, perhaps I didn't shut the utility sink faucet tightly enough. The ploink sound is much louder now and more hollow sounding, like drops falling into deep water. Automatically, I reach for the switch to light the stairway going down. Nothing. Damn fixture, it blows the bulb about once a month. That's alright; my eyes are so used to the dark now that I can see just fine. I'll just count the eleven steps so I don't step down two at the bottom. On the sixth one, I step ankle-deep into ice cold water. Unexpectedly, it doesn't freak me out. I put the other foot into the water too, bending down and trying to see into the basement. Nothing, just darkness and that sound which has taken on a much more ominous tone now.

I'll just turn the kitchen light on at the top of the stairs so I can see. None of the switches are working. I'll find my cat before I do anything else. She's nowhere to be found. I run back upstairs to wake Mr. M. He's so fast asleep that I'm not able to. With small flashlight in hand, I start back down the basement steps to the fifth step. Bending down, shining the small beam into the dark space, I can see nothing but three feet of milky water, swirling around in strange patterns, like a breathing organism, swallowing objects. I drop the flashlight into the swirls and put my hand over my mouth so I won't scream.

I scream anyway, waking myself up. The street light beams through the window brightly. I'm on the couch, my kitty is on her pillow next to my head. Mr. M is out of town. I get up for a glass of water. The clock says 4:00 am.

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Spent the day with a strange, hollow feeling in the pit of my stomach. It's always unsettling to me to dream about water that's dark or opaque. Dream interpreters have a field day with that one, chalking it up to either being a premonition about financial hardship, personal loss or the like. Some blame it on being consumed with worry and uncertainty. I blame it on the midnight snack.

Cleaned, cooked, had favorite girls over for Girl with the Dragon Tattoo trilogy, Mr. M came home a day early, we watched movies till 3:30 am.