The upper floors of hospitals are actually hotel rooms for healthy people. The closer one gets to the ground floor the sicker they are and below the lobby is the morgue. I have no idea if corpses are arranged according to how long they have been dead according to depth. My dream began in media res where I'm in an elevator full of green light with long shadows moving upwards as the elevator descends to my destination.

The door opens in the maternity ward which really isn't a maternity ward. Lots of pregnant women were milling around, chatting with each other and basically wasting the empty moments until their water breaks heralding the arrival of yet another mouth to feed. One person I recognize is the collections manager who has more junk in the trunk than I would recall from waking life. Soon it's blazingly obvious that she's with child. Taking waking life politics into account I give her a wide berth and completely ignore her by leaning against the railing and staring into the darkness below me which is the lobby and the terminal cancer ward.

There's a flurry of activity behind me and when I turn around I see that the collections manager has lost some weight and a doctor is wheeling something out of a room. I guess it's a basinet on wheels because inside are two baby twin girls. Weird thing is that they have all their teeth. I overhear that they're the product of parthenogenesis and the collections manager really didn't want them but had them anyway. After the ogling, the kids are wheeled back into a room to be tattooed by the doctor since they can't be circumcised.

About a day later these two eight year old girls come out and I know it's the twins. I know they were the twins because on the inside of their calves they had the red outline of a pixie marring their skin. This was my cue to exit.

My home is the small house of my paternal grandparents out in Millburn. Either out of ennui or nostalgia or simple laziness I never got around to redecorating the joint. At the back of the house is an enclosed patio that became the living room. I was looking out the back windows and saw a Pakistani run from the house next door, across the yard and into the next neighbor's yard. There were a few more people who made the same trip while trespassing on my property. One thing that I noticed is the fact that at certain points these people would flicker out of existence then flicker into existence.

Upon closer examination of the windows I saw there was a transparent decal over the glass which left the edges unobscured by the tint. When I looked through the untinted glass I was seeing the real world instead of some illusion.

The creepy bit is the lawn jockey. My father bought a lawn jockey for his parents back in the day where such a lawn jockey looking like an escaped slave boy wasn't something to raise holy hell and lynch a white person for insensitivity. When I looked towards the lawn jockey its face changed to an open mouth with empty, bleeding eye sockets.

I blinked.

The lawn jockey now had bulging eyes and was doing something weird with its lips which frightened me.

For the rest of the dream I was afraid to leave the house. Any time I blinked or shut my eyes the lawn jockey would change to something far more nightmarish and terrible than the last time. What made me shit bricks was when the lawn jockey's arms were outstretched, his face turned skyward and its stomach was moving in and out like it was laughing at something.