My eyes, riddled with rivulets of red, burst open. "What a dream..." Relief washed away the terror like ocean waves bathing a battered shoreline. I have long been given to dental nightmares, but the dream that haunted me that night was abnormally vivid. There I lay, reclining in a dentist's chair, bright lights scorching my corneas. Over me stood a menacing figure, liveried in white. Embroidered on his chest was "Dr. Butcher, D.D." He forced his metal implements into my mouth, extracting my teeth one by one. With each groan and gush of blood, another tooth fell to the floor. My cries went unheeded as he plucked away in his ruthless rage. Now awake, I slid out of bed, grateful to be back among the conscious. I stumbled into the bathroom and splashed some water onto my weary face. Something felt amiss. Having left my glasses beside my bed, I squinted as I leaned into the mirror, my mouth agape. "No..." I rubbed my eyes and ...