The woodpile was full of eels. Henry stopped picking up the logs. His left hand was cradling two logs while he had his right hand ready to grasp another.

The eels were slivering out of the woodpile. They were not there as second before. Suddenly, the logs in his left hand started to move. He looked over and saw that they had turned into eels as well.

Panic started to overcome him. He dropped the eels and the one that had started to appear in his right hand. The ground had turned to mud, the air to water. Now he was drowning.

Looking around he started to swim to the surface. He could make it. The eels started to swim around him, preventing him from going up. He was running out of air. He started to gulp in water, when he woke up.

He sat up in bed, drenched in sweat. He look around to make sure he was safe. He started to catch his breath. “Eels? Why did it have to be eels.”, he said.