I am not one to fabricate tall tales. So I almost hesitate to write this. But here goes.

Sadly, Tim Russert just died. I didn’t need to click on the link to know what of because of the numerous moments I’d catch him on tv and how I’d always think, “That guy’s face is so bloated and unhealthy. He looks like he’s gonna keel over from a heart attack.”

I was telling my friend LK all this when it occurred to me. My dream. Last night. I was on the metro and it was filled with – dead people. One of them had another. Not a twin but a double. As in doppelganger. And they were playing this game with me. They’d take turns pushing me against the hand rail, taunting me with, “Well, which one am I? Am I the alive one, or am I the dead one?”

And then they’d laugh. A chorus of belly ripping cachinnations that undulated through the densely packed cart and metamorphosed into a bitter lamentation. Eager to put an end to my unwitting role in the parlor game from dream hell, I reached for the door and attempted to pry it open, clawing and scratching with the same intensity and desperation as the poor soul who might find themselves alive and entombed. I felt an unpleasant weight pressed against my body and with one hand I was spun around.

“What about me! What about me – Tim? Am I ALIVE, or am I DEAD?” the man snarled, our eyes locked like magnets. His mouth was drawn back in a menacing manner and his eyes bulged uncomfortably from his head. He looked bloated and his cheeks were red. Horrified, I shoved him away and violently shook myself until I felt my body snap back to reality. It was three a.m. and I would not be able to comfortably fall back asleep until I saw a hint of sun through the blinds.

You see, I simply didn’t feel safe. I don’t like seeing dead people, and I surely don’t like being stuck on a train with them, dream or no dream. I prayed in my head and asked the powers-that-be to keep them away. And out of my head.

Of course, people die all the time. But I’m pretty sure it was an unhappy – if it was him – Tim Russert glaring at me on the train. I’m also pretty sure he knew there was no getting off it, either.

*I’d like to add that in retrospect I don’t think whoever the person was intended to scare me. He just had a boisterous way about him.