Faux Fu

Tuesday, May 11, 2004

Fog this morning. Burned off late afternoon. Still have this dream in my head:

Running a mountain path, another runner alongside me. A divergence in the path as we run. I take the lower path, my 'double' takes the higher. We run parallel to each other. There are rocks, branches; this is a rugged, mountain path with two forks.

As the runner, above and to the left of me, runs, rocks tumble from his path. One rock, then another. I look up, dodging each as they fall. The last rock, a large rock, much larger than the others, comes straight at me.

It is big, bigger than any sun. Large, dense, brown, totally mute, heavy; just like in the cartoon, Wiley Coyote, the rock comes at me full on. I can't dodge it, the rock and my head converge, I become ROCK.

I awake later and say, 'I had this dream, I died. You think it's a good omen?'

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