Breakfast with splitting headache often result in vomiting and she hated the smell of her own vomit. It was like the smell of death. One of her relative had died during last summer and when she went there with sad face and fake tears, as the custom suggests, she smelled the dead body as she went near to pay her last respect. The dead body smelled of rotting grain or semi-digested grain in a vomit. Next moment, she sprinted out and threw up in their backyard. Ever since, she often dream of a vomit monster sitting atop her bookcase, asking her, “What are you doing here alone?”
“If you are free this weekend, let me take you to my world. I own the vomitland. No one dares to enter my territory.”
“What are your thoughts?”
I vomited in the dream.
“Yuck! If I love you, you mistreat me like this. I have offered you my whole world. Yet you spit over me. You could have simply said no. It would take me long time to get rid of your smell. Till then, I will be lonely. And I don’t want to live alone.”
I laughed. He disappeared. I got up. Smile eluded me all morning.
