I was standing in the grocery store in front of a shelf stacked with the remnants of items never bought. One jar of something pale didn't even have a legible label. A preponderance of flimsy plastic tubs half-filled with bits of meat in some grey creamy sauce, "HALAL" featured prominently on the front. These were not refrigerated. As I picked one up to look more closely, not quite believing, the lights went out. I looked behind me and leaning on a counter was a priest (I have seen this man before in other dreams. Not in real life. He is sinister and unsettles me). He smiled at me thinly, knowingly. "Moral efficacy?" he said. I woke up fast.

RedFeather, by

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