She was in a city of cobble-stoned streets and narrow, covered walkways that twisted and turned here and there. The air felt dense and cloying, and a low-lying thick fog permeated everything. Patricia was running and stumbling along the street, chasing a scrawny gray alarmed cat that seemed neither adult nor kitten, having the size of an adolescent feline.
As she ran, Patricia felt mounting exasperation and rage. No matter how close she seemed to get to the cat, she could never catch it.
Suddenly, the cobbled streets were gone and Patricia was in a brightly lit, sterile environment like a hospital or surgery. Though everything was white, the tiled walls seemed to have grime and mold in the grout. From the corner of her eye, Patricia saw debris in the corner.
At the same time she realized that her environment had changed, Patricia’s perspective changed in the hurdy-gurdy waywardness of the dream state. She saw herself crouched in the corner of the tiled room, convulsing over something dark and sinister. The dreamer observed herself with mounting horror. Just as she realized she shouldn’t be so close to her convulsing self, the crouching Patricia turned a snarling face at the dreamer. Her mouth was covered with blood. The juxtaposition of white teeth outlined bloody. Crouching Patricia’s maw opened in a vicious but silent scream, and dreaming Patricia realized with horror that the other Patricia was eating the gray cat.
Patricia was suddenly awake, shaking and terrified. “Oh, my God!” she thought, “What the hell is wrong with me?!” She could still feel the fear rushing through her body as she got up to go to the bathroom, her belly heavy with child by now, her footsteps slow. She felt a momentary twinge of guilt about putting her unborn baby through such an experience, and compassion rushed in afterward. “Poor baby,” she said to her unborn son.
But, just as quickly as her love reached out to him, she shut it down. “This is why you’re not staying with me, little man. The last thing you need is a crazy mama.”
As she shuffled back to bed, Patricia remembered that she’d be seeing her therapist, Dr. Evans, later in the day. “Wonder what she’ll think about this?” she asked herself, settling down into bed and calming her breathing.
The Third Eve 
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