For over half a month now, every time I close my eyes to sleep, it’s pumpkins—either rolling in a field or being kicked around like a soccer ball. The craziest part was the night before last: that pumpkin actually started talking, opening its mouth to say, “Have you finished your year-end review yet?” I woke up with a start, my heart pounding like a drum. This is getting serious. P... https://interpreteddreams.com