Murdersocks: Chapter 5: In which the dream ends

Murders (per capita) (1998 - 2000) by country ...

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I apologize for ending the last chapter so abruptly.  The dream was so painful to try to recall* again that my fingers rebelled and would not put it on paper.**
I have now regained my composure and will continue where I left off:
The man (who remained unaware of his predicament) absorbed the crowy mist into his skin.  Some subjective seconds passed before he suddenly stopped being a man and began a new life as a large murder-flavored pudding.  The glow gradually dissipated and the flow of time resumed its previous manner of timeyness.  I noticed a murder of crows fly past the window outside at a completely reasonable velocity.  The only thing that had not returned to normal was the well-being of my customer.
And now, the joyful childlike squeal that I had merely sensed before from my feet was fully audible and all-encompassingly disturbing.
The dream was over.
Except it wasn’t.  It had ended, but another dream immediately followed, showing me the next murder.  And then I saw the one after that and so on and so on.  I relived the murderous murders of my neighbors, my friends, my uncles, my aunts, my cousins, my one nephew, the postman, the dog-walker, Old Farmer Billiam from across town, Hezekiah the Bog Mower, Norman the Sidewalk-sitter, and finally the myriad mountainy men and women I came across that very murderous day.
After reliving the worst parts of the worst two weeks of my life in slow motion, I finally awoke and found that it still only 10:40 PM.  There would be no more rest that night as I reflected on what I had just seen.
*You know how dreams usually disappear from your mind mind as soon as you wake up?  This one wasn’t like that at all.  I just don’t like thinking about it.
**This is paper.

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