A lot of writers over the years have got famous because their stories came to them through dreams; if this is the case then several of my dreams should have become stories at some point, however, last night’s dream I think would be a little too silly to write and publish!
My dream was about me looking at my guinea pigs and one of them (Autumn) became predatory and attacked me, finished me off completely, I was dead as a doornail as a result of a carnivorous guinea pig. I guess that’s what happens when you’re dinner is a couple of hours late and gives you stomach ache just before you sleep?
Now this could make me famous I guess, for producing a weird comedy horror, but generally I don’t think people are into carnivorous cute little furies these days are they?
