I woke up in a cold sweat.
The wind, forcing its way past my blinds, sends a wave of nausea once it touches my clammy skin. I gently lift up my silk sheets, careful not to disturb my partner, Jake, and make my way to the washroom. I splash a palm full of fresh water on my face; its cool touch washing away the sweat from yet another night terror. What nightmares and visions can haunt a man's soul?
I remember.
I remember putting on noise canceling headphones and laying down in bed to listen to Human Clay, after an evening of civil discourse and Gouda with some companions at Young Republican National Federation wine mixer. I remember falling asleep, my bronzed muscles relaxed after a night amongst noble society.
That's when I see him. Nay! It.
The beast cackles in the distance - his nasally voice carrying in the black night. As he draws toward my dream avatar, the moonlight illuminates his hideous face. His beastly nose, curly sideburns and his religious headpiece make my heart skip. As he nears, the clatter of the Hebe currency in his sagging pockets grows louder and louder. He has come to taunt me, using his Jewish trickery to argue semantics and steal my soul.
"What is the price of a man's soul?" I wonder aloud.
"Two shekels," responds the joyless beast.
I do not have the financial means to pay off this fiend. He lurches forward - surely he means to have his way with me! His greasy hands pin me down and I try to fight him.
There is no escape from this night man.
