I had a vision yesterday. Or a hallucination, or an exceptionally vivid daydream: whatever terms you wish to couch it in. It's left me somewhat disturbed, and I've spent much of today puzzling over its meaning:
It is twilight, just after dusk. The sun has gone down, there's only the faintest traces of light left on the horizon. I am standing in the middle of a field of ripe wheat, its edges in shadow. The wheat reaches to my waist and is moving wave-like, but there's no wind. I have what seems to be a length of wood in my hands.
In the semi-darkness around the edges of the field, indistinct figures caper, mocking me with impossibly high voices. I'm flailing about with this lump of wood, shouting incoherently and shaking with rage and fear. The figures do not approach, but just continue to dance around the field, taunting me.
And then I came to my senses: thoroughly weirded out. I've been carrying a faint sense of unease with me ever since.