Night of 6th November 2009

I have two small square spoons, like ice cream spoons, with very sharp edges, in my hands and am attempting to cut my toe nails with them. I sense that the two pieces were once part of a single device for cutting toe nails, one that worked much better - but I have to make do, and try to do the job with the two pieces. I place one underneath the nail and try to chop down on the nail from above with the other. The first attempt is successful and feels very pleasant. I get a bit blase and am not as careful as I should be; with the next cut I chop off a slab of my toe, and the pain is excruciating. I see the cleavered toe - the pink glassy flesh is misting over as the air hits it. The pain is excruciating. I wake up.