Dream VII: Crocodilian Lumber Yard

The the shards of a dim remembrance of peculiarity I summon back to my memory forcefully three steps out of bed, thus:  a saw mill, tall, cross timbers giving it height, mechanically, a crocodile carcass is emitted from its output, stripped of extraneous limbs and the tail chopped off nearest to the base as it can. Still alive it is dropped in front of the mill, mouth moving in agony. Two workers come up walking with the precision of automatons and carry it off and I watch on dispassionately from some unknown space, detached from the action. They stack them up high like lincoln logs with other crocodiles prepared in the same manner, three this way and three cross ways, some of them are unmoving, while others still wiggle their jaws. They are gigantic reptiles, all of them over twenty feet and this without their tails, their torsos are wide and immense from a long life of waiting and eating and waiting.

"Now it's your turn," they telepath to me as they hand me an ax. I don't resist, though I am not entirely sure why they work to accomplish this, and overall find the action of questionable value. 

As I am remembering it I have flashes of before in the dream. I am sitting in a living room, my grandmother's, with non-specific friendly humanoids, the room is mirrored the opposite way, they are sitting around and selecting something to watch on the TV. They resume watching some strange movie, arguing over which part they saw last, which section. They scroll past the subheadings on the menu of the playback device and try to decide whether it's the second or the third, the television and the headings take my focus and encompass my entire field of vision and then these horizontal words merge into the form of the sawmill, crudely constructed, and so this is how I arrived within the crocodile mill.

But back to the before. 

The crocodile is held fast somehow, maybe asleep, I take the ax and lop its tail off and it shudders, still alive twisting and turning in reptilian pain, at this point I'm now in my old backyard, and the crocodile stump has turned to a walrus heaving around, maybe a walrus with a crocodile mouth, anyhow, it is indistinct so that it shifts freely to either form in my amorphous perceptions, but more often to something in between the two. It shudders at me in pain, it clamps its teeth down on my leg loosely, I consider that normally it would bite the thing right through, but not now in its weakened state, or its state of being somewhat a walrus has taken its strength, or else I am just not afraid and feel no pain. 

Anyhow, I flee, not wanting to give it another chance, but it follows, and I have become clumsy or slow somehow. Now quite definite as a walrus again, I wonder why I fled, what would it do with its smallish tusks? It is nevertheless still alive and I have an anger for it now, I don't wish to kill it to put it out of its misery, as I should, but to right a wrong done to me, an annoyance. I back away, all the while my perceptions somewhere between 1st and 3rd person in the dream, and see long sections of something which can be put together, stiff, but supple, it is very long with the sections put together, 30 yards or more, I pick it up after putting it together and draw it back, there is a spike or something at it's end, and bring it down with full force upon the head of the now crocodile, smashing it and it writhes in pain, still alive, 30 yards away, still angry and thrashing out, safely out of reach, wake up in confusion, know I'm awake, but not that the thing I've just experienced was a dream, I feel as if it is something to be forgotten, before I take three steps out of bed and remember and remember more as I type this out.