Friday, February 20, 2009

The dream

We're in some hippie compound. LSD visions of beauty and horror intermix: Flowers bloom and homeless men bleed, dying, faded coats still on, wounded homeless dogs whimpering gamely by their side.

He disappears with two women. They have something to show him. I call. His voice is muddy on the phone, muddy and something more.

I wake up screaming.

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