Ridden by Fey, 1 of ?

I've been doing some cursory research on faeries in folklore, and came across an interesting notion in this article. In summary, it notes that "Consumption (tuberculosis) was sometimes blamed on the fairies forcing young men and women to dance at revels every night, causing them to waste away from lack of rest."

Now, while my sleepwalking escapades haven't had much to do with dancing at revels every night, I can aver to the exhaustion I feel in the morning after a rough night. Maybe some faeries hand out comp tickets to Oberon's Ball, but mine are lot less fun.

At least, they're less fun the day after. But when it comes to telling stories about my after hours adventures, they can be pretty amusing. Therefore, for your pleasure, dear reader, I'll be relaying some of the best/worst of my sleepwalking episodes. Many of you have already heard these stories before (or lived through them) so feel free to correct me where I'm wrong, or add some bits of your own. 

  • How Harley came to live in a doublewide with Cardboard over the Windows:  Once upon a time Harley lived in a trailer with his family on a farm. One of the bedrooms was devoted to my mother’s art studio, so Saurus and I shared a bunk bed in the other bedroom while Mom and Dad slept in the living room.

    If you’ve ever lived in a trailer, you have a sense of how cramped things can be. Sleeping on the top bunk put me within a few feet of the ceiling.

    (One thing I should mention before going further is that my sleepwalking episodes have me interacting with reality. As I noted in the previous post, it is as if there is a dream template laid over reality – I react and respond to the dream images, all the while manipulating the real world around me. Important to all of this, is the understanding that the experience to Harley is a *real* one. If I watch you die in my dreams, it creates the same visceral physical response as if I had stood by and watched you die in reality. But more on that later.)

    Anyhow, one night I “wake up” to find myself caught in a death trap. I can’t recall the purpose of the death trap, but that didn’t matter too much at the time because I was about to be crushed by a descending ceiling.

    (Remember - for intents and purpose, this is all “real”.)

    And sure enough, just above me, is the ceiling, coming down to crush me.

    I kick up hard with both feet, but try as I might I can’t stop it from coming down. Faced with imminent death, and a ceiling mere feet above me, I decide to make a break for it. In a dashing feat of daring, I kick out the window beside my bed and roll out, dropping to the ground some 8 ft. below.

    Success! I had escaped sure death to live another day. My Father met me outside, terrified and confused as all get out. We put replaced the window (luckily none of the shards had cut me, or my brother, sleeping below) but I would kick it out again in the coming weeks, so ultimately we just covered it with cardboard. 
Next time: How there was almost no Saurus



At 9:22 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

No Saurus?!?! What a terrible world that would be!


At 10:22 AM, Blogger saurus said...

for the record, i have slept through most all of these occasions.


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