Once every so often, dream catchers need to be emptied of their nightmares. It’s my job to empty them.
Tonight I’ll have to pull on my cloak and brave the blowing snow and bitter cold.
I can get used to the cold, but the horrors of the nightmares will always be a grotesque new experience every time.
The ear splitting screams mixed with a cacophony of ghostly moans and beastly howls. The shadows that slink out and meander for a moment or two and the eyes that glow radioactively in the dark.
The nonexistent claws that burn my back and the chill of a clammy sweat on my forehead.
Every deep fear is drained from the intricate weaving and beadwork and it swirls around me and then blows away into the velvety black sky.
Now I must move on and prepare more dream catchers for more nightmares and then eventually once again come back to relive the hell that is countless nightmares.