What Started the Pillowfight
Dreamed 1983/2/16 by Chris Wayan
Dawn light sneaks under my eyelids. Open them to find I'm in bed holding a girl. Vaguely recall we had a great time fucking half the night... but other than that... I'm hazy. It was some party.
Who is she? She has reddish frizzy hair.
Oh. It's Althea.
My sister, Althea.
Others are around us, sprawled on the bed, on the rug, waking up slow... we start talking sleepily, like a slumber party in reverse. Soon we're telling a story, a group story, each contributing a bit.
The tale turns weird--the story of a family after World War Three, surviving in primitive conditions for generations. Isolation, survival, and slow recovery. I put in a love affair between a father and daughter. They're the last ones on earth as far as they know, but they're still haunted by the taboo... even though it's love.
Hearing this, Althea, with my arm around her, my come inside her, half sits up, and says in disgust "That's DEGENERATE!" And snuggles up to me naked again!
I tease her: "So sibling incest for fun is OK but parental incest to save the human race is disgusting?"
"Yeah, those two are gross!" she yells, I argue it's no different, and pretty soon it's a free-for-all pillow fight.
As wars over incest go, I remember thinking, stupid sure beats miserable.
And wake, blushing in embarrassment, but also thinking... "Progress!"
NOTES IN THE MORNING
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