Housemate told me in the morning that I had been yelling in my sleep. Normally, I wake myself up when I do this, or I at least remember it in the morning. This time, I did not. I remember having a dream, but none of it seemed particularly scary or worthy of inline comment (sometimes I end up yelling in a dream for reasons other than fear).

But I’ll tell you the dream as I remember it.

It was Betsy and Kris’s wedding! A different version of it. Me and Willow went. Many of us kids were staying at someone’s house, so we were crashing all over the place. Willow and I were supposed to share a room with ex-girlfriend Nicole. Awk-ward! But what were we to do? They had the sleeping arrangements all set out with fancy-printed cards, like they do for seating arrangements at weddings.

The wedding was a whole weekend long celebration, and there was some downtime. I went walking around the quaint downtown there, where I bumped into the Devil!

The Devil was wearing a ringmaster outfit, and my perception of the Devil’s gender changed and was fluid, but looked like a normal human except with smallish goat horns. (this last brought to you by Culture).

The Devil was like “Hey. Do you wanna meet God?”

I was like, “Say, yeah. I do kinda wanna meet God.” to myself, I thought, “Of course the Devil knows God!” “Sure,” I said.

The Devil reached over and opened up the sky like a door. “Right this way,” the Devil gestured.

Inside, there was a hallway, like in an office building. The walls were painted white. Fluorescent lights. Gray, industrial carpet. No windows. You’d expect a psychologist office over there, and a lawyer over there, or whatever. The Devil pointed at a door near the end of the hall and was like “God is in that one.”

I was about to open that door when all the sudden I thought, “Wait a minute! I’m about to do something that the very DEVIL told me to do! This is not sounding like such a good idea.” But then I was like “I don’t know, man. The Devil volunteered this. Didn’t ask for anything in return. Maybe it’s not a trick. Y’know, it probably wears thin to be mean all the time. Maybe this is not a trick. After all, it’s Betsy’s wedding – a time for happiness. The Devil is probably just in a good mood.”

I went back and forth on it, but ultimately I decided not to trust the Devil. I went back before the Devil closed the door back out onto the street.

Now I’ll never know.