The Lullabye-Man I dreampt of the lullabye-man; a man composed of angry despair, the desperate addictive longings of others--not his own. More obsession than flesh. And he could slithe through the space beneath cheap doors when the frame is too warped to fit smoothly against the floor, or the crack a door on a a chain can open. You had to leave out money for him, twenty dollar bills, because if you didn't leave it out for him he would touch you to take and that was worse than destruction. A strange dream of addiction. I woke up screaming, trying to hide myself beneathe the blankets. Sean turned to hold me but I pulled away, too scared for touch.  ¶ 11:18 PM