Delirium

I live with two white male college students.

I can hear the sounds of black domestic violence through the thin walls.

I can’t make out the words, but the punctuated cries tell me their story.

It’s fraught with oppressive poverty, delinquent phone bills and NSF fees.

I call the landlady to complain. She hurries to our apartment.

I don’t have time to hide the cat. She walks in to find my two cats cavorting around the living room.

“You can only have one pet.” Is the first thing she says when I open the door.

“Give me a little time to find them a home.” I plead as Mr. Whiskers runs behind the curtain. Miss Emma has just swatted him with a vindictive paw. “Wow! He’s a magnum!” is the curious response from the landlady to the ongoing feline kerfuffle.

“What?”

“And this one is gonna be a mommy!” The landlady squeals with excitement.

“How can you tell?” I ask as I inspect Miss Emma’s fluffy belly. She’s purring heavily and her black coat feels soft and delicate.

DOG BARKS LOUDLY

END OF DREAM SEQUENCE

I wake up in the dark. I’m not sure where I am. Am I back in Tuscaloosa?

My body quivers and I am transported back to West Africa.

I stretch out my hand to touch the white gossamer mosquito net.

It is all just a dream.

In reality I live alone in a small concrete house in rural Liberia.
I take Lariam (anti- Malaria medication) and have the most vivid dreams. It's a side-effect of the medication. Sometimes I feel like the dreams are so real. I can hear, taste, and smell my dreams. Liberia is full of dreams and nightmares. I live in a parallel world.
I'm going to church tomorrow.