Last night I dreamt.
I was standing on an empty plain under a starless night sky. A huge moon filled one side of the horizon; it wasn't the moon, though, as I could look closely and see the people, and cars, and buildings on its surface. The ground beneath my feet was sandstone, or at least, how I think sandstone would look.
Behind me, on the opposite side from the moon, was something gigantic and dead. Though the rest of the plain was brightly lit, and my eyes were keen, I couldn't make out any details of the vast corpse. I was afraid of it, so I turned back. The space in front of me now held a smaller corpse, back lit by the strange moon.
It was Bob. A fox stood on his body and stared at me calmly. Bob was dead. But then, he'd been dead for months now. I don't know why it surprised me so much. The fox growled, but I knew it wasn't growling at me. I turned.
The dark, dead shape began to twist and writhe. I blinked, and my perspective changed. The thing in front of me was no bigger than a man. I still couldn't see the body in any detail, but I could see the snake coiled on top. It slithered over to me and wrapped itself around my leg. The fox padded toward me.
As one, the animals sank their teeth into me. I knew it was coming. I stared at the moon as pain blossomed. They pulled me down.
I woke up shaking. I feel too weak to get out of bed. Maybe tomorrow.