Dream in which we're all crowded down on the edge of a grassy ledge. Two girls nearly fall off, but I catch them by wrapping my arms around their legs. They are grateful. Everyone around us is rubbernecking to see this crashed cop car stuck nose-first into the ground, and I pilot a small remote controlled hovercraft down to take pictures. Where is the blood?
The crowd dissipates. I am running across the field with one of the girls, a tall blonde who matches my stride, and suddenly it becomes newspaper boy: we're hurdling over hedges and logs with our lead and trail legs perfectly in sync. I am in love with her, she is a mystic saxon gazelle to me.
Posted by Alan at October 8, 2005 05:40 AM