"Gosh darnit! I forgot to but buy potatoes!" Mathew exclaims exhaustedly, sighing in a cool puff.
He reminds himself to go back for them tomorrow. Right now, the store feels a million miles away and his bags weigh him down like fifty pound dumbbells. Returning to the store is most definitely not an option. Snowflakes plague the clear surfaces of Mathew's glasses as he trudges down the sidewalk, annoying, but not bad enough make him take wrong step and slip on the ice. People concentrated on their destination waddle by purposefully in their winter coats. They aren't bothered or even affected by the weather, true Canadians in their natural habitat. Mathew gives each passerby a wide birth and avoids eye contact at all costs. He comes to the light just before his house where Gilbert is waiting for him. Victory is in sight! He sets down his heavy shopping bags for a moment, shakes out his strained arms, and presses the button for the cross walk. The green light on the other side of the street flashes, telling him it's safe to cross. Mathew looks both ways for good measure, then cautiously begins to jog across the street. Halfway across, he thinks he hears someone yelling down the road. The pavement rumbles and the voice becomes clearer. Mathew recognizes it as Antonio's voice.
"RRRUUUUUUUUUNN! THE BULLS ARE COMING! RUN FOR YOUR LIFE!"
A massive wave of angry bulls rises over the horizon, kicking up asphalt and cracking the black sheet of ice on the road. Antonio continued to shout warnings at Mathew as he frantically sprinted in front of them. The canadian's legs won't move from their spot in the middle of the street. Everything sounds distant. Everything moves slowly. The dark horde of bulls are closing in. Out of the corner of his eye, Mathew sees Gilbert fling open the door and scream something he can't make out. He is suddenly on his back and all he sees are hooves. Mathew knows he is being trampled, but he doesn't feel a thing. His world becomes very cold and very dark.
Mathew shoots into an upright position in his bed, trembling and sweating after awakening from his nightmare. His eyes dart around the dark bedroom and he realizes that he is not, in fact, dead. He looks over to cute, yet loudly snoring Gilbert, curled up beneath the covers. His platinum bed head falls over his face and drool oozes his mouth. Mathew wraps his arms around him and cuddles for a bit, a sure fire trick to end the snores. Gilbert is warm and familiar and eases the effects of the nightmare. His obnoxious snoring melts into light breathing and Mathew lets go. He feels around blindly for his glasses on the bedside table and attempts to get out of bed without waking up Gilbert so he can get a glass of water. Mathew is pouring the water in the kitchen when Gilbert walks in, yawning loudly and rubbing his eyes in a manner reminiscent of a sleepy toddler. He always wakes up when knows he's alone in bed.
"Sorry to wake you up." Mathew apologizes.
Gilbert comes up behind him and rests his arms and chin on Mathew's shoulders as he drinks his water."Was already awake, birdie. Did you have that dream again?"
Mathew turns around to face Gilbert and the look in his eyes say yes.
"The next time you have that dream, instead of watching you like an idiot, I'll fly in and save you like the awesome boyfriend I am! I'll fly you far away from those bulls to a nice, happy dream, ok?" Gilbert presses a kiss to Mathew's forehead. "Now let's go back to bed."
Mathew nods and begins to walk back to the bedroom before he remembers something important.
"Wait!"Mathew throws open the refrigerator door. The potatoes are still there.