This morning, Chilkat came downstairs a little earlier than normal during the last week or so of coronavirus isolation. She told me a nightmare woke her up. Here’s what I got from her description of her nightmare:

Our house had a flat roof instead of the peaked roof that it has in reality. Instead of a back yard, the world ended behind our house. The Playfort was in the front yard instead of the back, and it also had a flat roof. The front yard had a landscaping wall similar to the one in Nana and Papa’s back yard. A big storm was rolling in (we did actually have a short period of real-life lightning and thunder a couple days ago).

For some reason, she jumped up on top of the Playfort, and from there she jumped up onto the roof of the house — but she was scared she was going to go over the house and over the edge of the world and she woke up.

Edit in the afternoon…

Chilkoot later told me (independently to the best of my knowledge) about his own recurring nightmare that he has whenever he’s sick: It’s like a gray screen with just screaming. It makes me feel kind of scared.

Posted by snaotheus

1 comment


I’m sorry. 🙁

You had nightmares as a kid that often involved tears and ended with you in bed with Dad and me. You didn’t usually articulate them as coherent narrative-type dreams like Chilkat’s, but they were scary and upsetting. And you didn’t have a pandemic going on. I think it would be more surprising if they didn’t have the occasional nightmare, although Chilkoot’s sickness one is a little strange. My recurring one at his age involved traveling to town over a wooden-slatted bridge in a heavy storm, and each slat fell into raging water below just as the back tires of the car cleared it. I had it occasionally into my early 20s.

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