Migrations
Transmigrating Dream - July 18, 2008 ...you pray for rain...I pray for blindness "We are things made of wonder." Night: In the beginning, there was water, lots of it. Rushing in over fences, through windows. Water penetrating as only water does, and the whole time I can't save anyone. I strategize, first to go high, top floor if possible...it doesn't help. The sea rises, the wave crests, and we're all washed away. The second time I tell them to head for the vault, which is waterproof. This time we feel the water hit, but instead of a mad rush, this time the water trickles in through the cracks, slowly filling the room. The last time doesn't make sense, I'm on a trolley that is acting as a boat; I can tell from the rocking side to side. There's only one other person in it. She holds out her hand, and I am offered a choice. Day: In the bookstore I'm trying to keep up with Helene, and for some reason the song "