Edward Cox
- Dream Slant-
It’s amazing how realistic dreams can be.
Her face looked concerned. She wore no coat and shivered in the cold. She was slim and good-looking. It made her seem exposed and vulnerable on the dark road. Quickly stepping ahead of her, I opened the passenger side door and she climbed in.Breathe steaming in front of me, I heard myself ask, “How much?”
She smiled at me. “Eighty sterling pounds of the realm, sir.”
The road was empty. No other vehicles in sight. “If that’s how much I’m being charged, it best be super painful.”
“It might not be safe out here,” she said. “And I feel the onset of a headache.”
My expression dropped to one of extreme horror. “No fair.”
“Only screwing with ya!” she laughed. “This is really going to frigging hurt!”The sense of wrong was like a tingle in the bottom of the mind, scintillating and terrifying at the same time. “Thank you,” I said smiling at her. “There’s no need to worry.”
“Indeed.”
“Ah, who am I kidding,” I said, taking out my pair of pliers. “It’ll feel something similar to someone yanking a rotten tooth from my head without anaesthetic.”
“Which of course I will be,” she chirped. “Now shut up and do exactly as I tell you. I have come to deliver sadistic amounts of excruciating agony . . . only worse.”
Drawing closer to the forbidden, I felt the dark desires and depraved urgings. “I know. Thank you for this.”She crunched my back tooth with the pliers, and then removed them. “Christ!” I gasped as her hand delved back into my gaping maw.
“Hmmm. Looks like you have some kind of infection in the gum. I can see a few baby maggots a-wriggling in the tooth cavity.”
Crunch!
“Ninghph!”
“I’m sorry. I can’t make out a word you’re saying. Now hold still please.”
There was a hard tug, and my head was pulled sharply from the headrest. I enjoyed the wickedness. She pulled again - I watched my conscious die – and again – slowly becoming changed by my fantasies – and again - What was I becoming? – and . . .Then she stopped.
“There we go. You’re all done!” She put a heavy Doc Martin on my chest. “Only kidding!” She pulled again.
The tooth dislodged and my mouth filled with blood. I could tell she was relieved. She handed me her used handkerchief. I was aroused yet frustrated that it had ended so soon.
“Now, can we book you in for anything else while we’re here?” she said, her arms wrapped around her. Spitting blood in to the handkerchief, I asked, “Do you do trephining?”
“We certainly do,” she beamed, elated. “The new service seems to be going well with the punters.”
I didn’t want to look like some of psycho, and fiddled with the heater. “I’ve got a free slot available next Tuesday.”“Mr Slansky?”
I groaned and rubbed my temples.
“Mr Slansky!”
I woke up excited and alert. No matter how much you try dress it up, dreams are strange. I’d been waiting so long I’d momentarily forgotten where I was. Oh, yes, I’ve got an appointment for a session of unbearable pain.
The lady behind the desk punched something into her computer. “Wisdom teeth, correct?”
I nodded.
The lady smiled sympathetically. “There will be a charge of eighty pounds for this session, Mr Slansky.”
“I know.”
“You can pay at reception afterwards.”
* * *
Edward Cox has been floating around the speculative writing scene since 1999 - his new novella, 'Living Stone', has just been published by Sam's Dot Publishing. Ed's personal homepage can be visited below:
The Storyteller
To view the two pieces of work specifically written for Ed's Dreamslant cut up,
click here.