sucker, bloodsucker

My dad emailed me yesterday to let me know he was changing his isp. I never hear from him except for yearly birthday and xmas cards and we see each other, well, once a year at most. Last night I dreamed that I had just gotten home after semi-breaking in because I'd forgotten my key. I heard a loud noise like the lock of the front door breaking (note: this was actually taking place in my childhood next-door-neighbor's house) and when I got out there I saw my father, grinning, covered in dirt and blood. He said, rather triumphantly, "I shot him! The police will be here soon." I walked outside to assess the damage and noticed that there were two cars on the street, smashed into one another. One of the drivers was walking toward me, shaking her finger at my dad, and I knew that he had somehow caused the accident.