In my dreams I was a cast member for an historical reality series, and a time came when a bear had to be killed. The killing wasn’t in defense of hearth and home from a marauding beast. The animal was a friend, particularly of me, and it was decided that the task fell to me. I was given a large club and sent into the cabin where the bear was being kept.
When I entered, the bear lumbered over to me, and I did my best to offer soothing words and beg forgiveness for what I had to do. I knew the club wouldn’t work and decided to use my bare hands and break his neck. And of course, I fucked up, but there was no going back. As I worked frantically to finish the work, the animal suffered needlessly and I started screaming over the horrible thing I had been forced to do. The bear was a friend. I didn’t want to kill him. I didn’t want to hurt him like I did.
Of course, this is about the time when I woke up. My whole day yesterday just felt off.