Wolf Worm

I don’t know what time it was when I woke up. It wasn’t a restful sleep, more like a fitful doze where you are thinking something and then you wake, still thinking about the same thing, and aren’t certain whether you slept or not.

Certainly I had no shortage of things to occupy my mind. I kept reliving the sensation of stepping on the larvae. It had felt exactly like stepping on a grape and feeling it pop underfoot. I was never going to eat grapes again. Possibly I was never going to eat anything again.

When I did dream, it was an endless sensation of things crawling on my skin, jerking me awake to slap at something that wasn’t there.

They can’t get into your nose or mouth, I told myself. You don’t have any open wounds. You’re as safe as you can be.