I scoffed as I re-read the warnings and directions smeared along the side of the box. As if cramming word counts onto a small box were a competitive sport. Do not take before naps. If you experience lucid dreams, contact a doctor after waking up. Blah blah blah. It was all the same contrived legalese that could get any corporation out of a million dollar lawsuit. But it never stopped the test group, let alone the millions of consumers like me from taking it.

Who wouldn’t want to skip ahead and read the last chapter, or at least the last page? Curiosity kills cats, but sells millions for a large pharmaceutical company. I choke back my daily vitamins with a glass of water and spread the tangy smelling mixture on my eyelids. Laying in bed, taking in the rancid smell baking atop my eyelids, I can’t help but wonder if I had been ripped off. The thought brings me right to sleep.

Dreams have never made sense, no matter how much meaning we try to pull from them. My dreams were no different. However, before waking up, my mind played a scene for me that only snake oil salesmen and wealthy pharmaceutical companies could guarantee. I was cooking a meal, diligently focused on seasoning a chicken without using too much salt. Suddenly a warm hand finds a place in my back. I smile with comfort, still focused on preparing dinner.

“Thanks for cooking. Everyone’s waiting at the table.” The voice sounds familiar, but my mind doesn’t place it.

I halt my work and pivot to a complete charcuterie board. Time for a fun appetizer. I swing it about as I make my way to the dining room. When I drop the board down, I look around to see…no one I recognize. Not even my family, kids, parents. Everyone looks so strange and unfamiliar. Faces I’ve never seen before. I look across the room to the reflection of myself in the bay window of the dining room.

I stand over a dinner table with an unrecognizable figure and face. Behind me, a black hooded figure with…my face?

I jolt awake.