"I had a terrible nightmare!" Mr. B. said when he woke up this morning.
"I dreamt about the people in the funny farm. It was horrible. There were a lot of arguments. The diva was nagging away to my face complaining endlessly about something I don't understand so I yelled at her to shut her up. Then Fantasy and Reality were arguing about this new project that I found really silly to begin with. I tried inviting them to my place to discuss. But they just kept talking and talking in a language I can't understand. Egghead was nowhere to be found and I was worried. I feared the Rabbit might appear and cast an eternal spell on everyone. It was so tense. Then I saw my Mom demanding explanation on something I can't recall. My nieces were there and that was the only nice part but they had to leave. I was so confused and I woke up."
"I don't understand one word you just said, Mr. B." I gave him that queer look. "You're probably under too much pressure."
"But I am not!" he said. "I don't even think about them on weekends!"
Poor Mr. B. The energy suckers can't leave him alone. Even in his sleep. I told him we should make some comfort food for lunch and snuggle in front of the TV. He agreed that would be the best way to spend this rainy Sunday. He is making Risotto with Mushroom.
Note: Pucheng Street is the street where we live. Funny farm is the place where he works.