A night or 2 before my last dental cleaning I dreamt:
The hygienist had the pick and was applying pressure to my back upper left molar.
Suddenly, the pick just went through the tooth, not even a bursting through the enamel, but rather a gradual sink and then a quick push in, the tooth was so decayed towards the center.
She pulled the pick out and went to rinse it, and clumpy black stuff like soil just kept washing off the pick into the tiny white sink's drain, and I knew that that was everything that had been inside my rotting tooth.
. . .
(A few days before, I was sorting black beans and found a clump of soil, and had noticed earth streaming into the sink as I initially rinsed the beans, too; that memory must have gotten mixed up with my expectation of my upcoming tooth cleaning to form the nightmare.)
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