Nurse the Hate: The Lucky Coin

He had been so unsettled by the dream that he had forgotten his lucky coin.  In the dream he lived in a small room in a large city.  When he stepped into his room, a snake slithered out of his laundry hamper.  The snake was gold and black, but what was most noteworthy was that it had two heads.  Each head reared back and poised to strike him and he stood paralyzed in fear.  He knew he needed to retreat, but he couldn’t.  His muscles would not respond to his mind’s command.  He stood stiffly awaiting the inevitable bites from the two snake heads.  Suddenly his dog appeared, grabbed the snake and thrashed it.  Blood sprayed around the room, much more blood than should have been possible from a creature that size.  It covered the room, slowly dripping down the walls, pooling around his feet.  His blood soaked dog wagged his tail triumphantly and gazed up at him awaiting approval.

He backed out of the room horrified.  He had to get away.  He slipped down a flight of stairs in panic and left the building.  It was snowing.  It was confusing.  The weather was warm, a nice summer evening.  Yet it was snowing.  The street was an industrial street, completely empty.  A pair of headlights flipped on just out of clear vision.  It was an old van.  The engine came to a rough start.  He could hear the gears shift into drive.  It drove towards him, picking up speed.  The snow flurries serenely fell like a child’s snow globe.  The van came to a screeching stop right in front of him.  A bald man with one arm was in the driver’s seat.  His face showed extensive damage from burns.  The driver glared at him.  The man opened the door and struggled into a cruel looking apparatus for his legs, which were only stumps cut above the knee.  The metal feet of the walking device clicked on the pavement as the man moved towards him with great effort.  The man stopped just short of him.  With his one arm, he reached into his front pocket.  He pulled out a coin and handed it to him.  “Here’s your coin.  You almost forgot it.  You are going to need it.”

The dream had been so real, so richly detailed that it was like an event from the previous day.  He readied himself for work on autopilot struggling to make sense of it.  It consumed his thoughts as he walked out of his house.  He stared into his phone as he walked to the train station, searching Google for dream analysis websites.  Each site contradicted the last.  He struggled to assess meaning to the various symbols from his subconscious.  It was useless.  There was a fortune teller that had a small storefront across the street from the train station.  He thought about what it would be like walking up the stairs to the fortune teller, knowing it would smell like incense.  That would be the smell he would forever associate with how he got suckered by a fortune teller and confirmed that he was a fool.  Still, maybe she knew the answers.

He looked at his phone for the time.  He could call in late to the office.  Blame a delay on the national rail system.  He tried to estimate what the fortune teller would charge him.  It couldn’t be more than $50.  He didn’t carry much cash.  It was rare that he had $50 on him.  He reached into his pocket for his wallet to assess the situation.  This whole thing was a crazy idea, but he was suddenly excited.  This would be an adventure.  His excitement turned to dread.  As he reached into his pocket he noted the lack of a familiar weight.  In the fog of his morning, he had forgotten his lucky coin on the small dish by his night stand.  He stood perfectly still on the bustling sidewalk.  Other commuters brushed past him.  He knew he couldn’t risk the rest of the day without his coin.  He would have to go home to get it.  He was going to need it.