Amazon Aunts, Buried Child
Dreamed 1997/10/28 by Chris Wayan
I'm camping in the Amazon Basin, in a grassy clearing that looks oddly like my childhood back yard: a neat rectangular lawn. I look for a spot to sleep. I have my thick coverlet. A TV narrator on the soundtrack warns "Even a spot free of ants should be watched for a while--no visible activity may still hide a nest of something so fierce all other bugs are scared off." So when I find a bare sunken patch, with some sheets in it, a comfortable little nest, I watch it quite a while. But I don't see any ants at all, and at last I curl up in the hollow and go to sleep.
No problems in the night, but when I get up the next morning, my TV narrator says "Amazonian natives bury dead babies in shallow pits, wound in sheets. Even adults are sometimes buried just under the surface." I shudder, and roll out of the pit. My coverlet's gotten wound around the sheets... tangled... I pull and pull, but it's like the pit is clutching at my blanket, pulling back. Creepy.
At last I unwind it all... and find a dead baby at the bottom. Crusted with yellow slime--I don't know what it is, but suspect the baby died of some disease. Will I catch it? Slime on my blanket now. I don't want to use it again. Feel like it's the mark of my crime--I slept in an open grave! Even if I wash it, I'll worry and wonder.
I feel guilty--and unclean. I need to see a doctor right away!
And get rid of that blanket.
WHEN I WAKE
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