The orphaned questions: number three

I see a man in grey standing on the wing of a decommissioned airplane. A serpent hovers in the air above him. The man tilts back his head, like a drinker of rain, and the serpent strikes him once upon each eye. The man cries out and claws at his face. When next he opens his eyes, his gaze has become luminous like that of an avenging angel. What does this vision mean?

     a.) I shall accumulate great wealth but lack the means to enjoy it.
     b.) My childhood home has burned to the ground.
     c.) I must euthanize my family, for they are infected with plague.
     d.) An adversary is worth a thousand muses.

The orphaned questions: number two

You are a character in a dream of mine. Together we wander the halls of a crumbling, labyrinthine mansion. In the course of our journey, we discover that we have a common desire to inflict great violence upon the fabric of our times, to distill our lives into a single act of harrowing, eloquent savagery. As we begin to plan out the operational details of a shared offense, we become separated and you find yourself alone in the attic, surrounded by old brushes and half-used cans of paint. Like all dreamers, I have a terrible memory. What can you write or draw upon the walls to recall to me our conversation and the promises made therein?

The orphaned questions: number one

Walking home from a gathering of friends, I am confronted by a stray dog. The dog is highly agitated and barks madly in all directions, like a thing beset. I speak to it in soothing tones and approach with great caution, but as I reach out to examine its collar, the dog coughs up onto the sidewalk a severed human hand. What is the dog’s name?

     a.) Glover.
     b.) Vortex.
     c.) Butchermouth.
     d.) Bathory.