I was walking through my dreams the other night. I broke bottles of sparkling water over balconies. Parked cars stood still and a homeless man examined the shattered glass laying before his feet. His head moved sadly in the style of a marionette, my subconscious pulling his strings.

I ran through a store, chasing an invisible woman. She was trying to steal a bronze Buddha and as I followed the floating beacon of enlightenment, I paid no attention to the ridiculous nature of the situation. I lost her. I wanted to be invisible too.

I continued. A bar on the bottom floor of a college cafeteria brewed in the heat of the summer day. Tiki-beer delights with tropical sun tans. Mai-tais at noon before Russian Constructivist art history at one. Ten thousand students attended the class in which the lecturer had promised to completely break down the rules, myths, techniques, and regulations of Dungeons and Dragons. I sat on the balcony, unenthralled.

I dropped a friend off on my way to Gaviota Beach. He was living in a bed on the side of the freeway. Red sheets make the green fields look even more minuscule. I drove by a few hours later and I waved, but he did not see me.


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