Friday, March 27, 2020

March 27

In my dream, I was to be initiated into the Rasta enlightenment, "standing in a shaft of light."  But the plan fell victim to a massive electrical storm, and the high priest withdrew, leaving me alone and uninitiated under a thin blue shroud. There I lay worrying about my son, whom I had lost.

In real life, an extended family of South Asians ambled down Shady Hill, mingling without apparent concern in the company of three sprightly young Chihuahuas.

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